


The Pirate and the not so Gentleman

by winelover1989



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers as Pirates, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff by the gallon in the beginning, Idiots in Love, M/M, Medical Kink, Merman Steve Rogers, POV Tony Stark, Pirate AU Inspired by Dapne Du Maurier's Frenchmen's Creek, Pirate Steve Rogers, So colonialism and slavery are often addressed in this period drama, Stony are literally social justice warriors, Sugar Daddy Kink, Superfamily (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 132,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26010784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winelover1989/pseuds/winelover1989
Summary: Pirate AU set in 17th century England. Tony Stark is a rich Baron and a philandering celebrity, reigning over all the balls and taverns in London...until he's not.  Disillusioned after witnessing the horrors committed by the British empire with the very weapons he made, Tony Stark closes shop, gives away his fortune, puts his life of decadence and debauchery behind him, and moves to his abandoned country estate in Cornwall.Little does he know that it now serves as a base for pirates.  In his absence, the notorious pirate, Steve Rogers, often squats in his house, admiring the beautiful portrait of the manor’s master, when he’s not robbing the rich neighbors, seizing their merchant ships, and setting any and every slave ship he comes across free.Tony’s conflicting thirst for solitude and adventure and Steve’s thirst for Tony leads to a bodice ripping affair, a quest rife with danger and glory, and the ultimate face off with death.  Will the dangers of piracy swallow them whole or is their love strong enough for them to cheat death and ride off into the sunset to claim their happy ending?
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 580
Kudos: 275





	1. Tony's Great Escape

Despite the warnings of his captain and crew to remain shut up in his cabin until the storm passes, Tony Stark walked out onto the deck to welcome the rain descending from the thunderous grey skies as waves rose as high as mountains to put the fear of God into their hearts. He had no heart. There was a gaping hole in his chest instead. He had been disillusioned from the lies instilled into him throughout his sheltered life among the high society of London. He loved his king and country. He was taught the British Empire was built to spread knowledge, prosperity, and civilization throughout the world. Civilization! That piece of propaganda disgusted him the most.

A little voice in the back of his mind always scoffed whenever his countrymen spoke of the “the white man’s burden” but now that he had witnessed the “white man’s cruelty” with his own eyes, he was disgusted by his years of blissful ignorance, decadence, and drunken debauchery with friends who believed it their right to sail to other countries to enslave their people and steal from them like savage barbarians, playing at hollow etiquette and ostentatious shows of civility. His father had taught him it was their duty to manufacture weapons to protect English troops. Now that he had visited India and witnessed what the East India Company did with those weapons, he had blown up all his weapons under the cover of night, and returned home set on closing shop and put the filth and scourge of London behind him. The Tony Stark who had left England for the first time with a naive sense of adventure in his heart had died in India. The man, who returned with self-hatred and shame, had no love for his country; he refused to arm them; he refused to profit from the horrors they inflicted upon the world.

As the east wind led them ashore, the waves still angrily beating upon the sand, his resolve didn’t feel enough. He wished he could do more. He wished to undo the damage. He wished to cleanse the sins of the past. But alas, what could he do? He was just a broken man who lived a lie for over thirty years and was rendered far too old, weary, and bone-tired from the truth to take on an entire empire on his own.

With a defeated sigh, he settled on the next best thing. He shut down his factories, sold his London home, ordered the managers of his estate to withdraw all promises, and refuse all future proposals of investment into colonial companies, instead, they must commence work on establishing charities to better use his ill-begotten fortune immediately.

“Pardon my intrusion, Anthony, but where and how do you plan to live?” asked Virginia Potts, who was like a mother to him even though he was older among the two. She was betrothed to marry Harold Joseph Hogan, the most trusted of his estate managers, and what made him so trusted, competent, and efficient was the fact that he and his betrothed worked as a team.

“Don’t worry about that, Pepper,” Tony began.

“Ugh, how many time have I told you to stop addressing people with these improper names you come up with,” Virginia said, smacking his hand like a disappointed and suffering mother.

“Oh, how proper, and must I say British you are in your propriety, Pepper,” Tony teased. Pepper glared at her.

“He is merely jesting, dear,” her betrothed pointed out as he took a break from ordering around the servants who were packing up his London home in a frantic hurry around them while they took tea in the what remained of the parlor. “The more annoyance you express, the more validated he would feel in his choice of nickname for you.”

“You should listen to Happy,” Tony said with a mischievous smile stretching upon his lips after far too long. “He made peace with his new name a long time ago and now everyone in London calls him Happy.”

“I don’t want everyone in London to call me Pepper,” Pepper protested.

“Why, do you want something more cheerful like Happy?” Tony asked, wiggling his brows to infuriate her.

Pepper sighed.

“Stop derailing the conversation, Anthony,” Pepper scolded him. “Where will you live now? How will you make an income?”

“I have a beautiful estate in Cornwall sitting abandoned and ignored for years and it produced a decent enough yield for me to live a quiet and peaceful life there,” Tony shrugged.

Pepper raised a sly brow. “No, really, what is your plan?”

“That is the plan,” Tony replied in all seriousness.

“You,” Pepper scoffed. “You plan on living a quiet and peaceful life in the countryside. You, who spends every night drinking in the finest inns in London and sharing your bed with a new beautiful stranger every night; you, who is the star of every ball and masquerade in town,” she stressed, towering over him with the full intimidation of her imposing height. “You think you can last in the countryside with nothing to do but admire nature and read books for more than a week? Tony”—she looked away in disapproval—“there’s a reason that estate has been abandoned for years. That property is incompatible with your disposition on a fundamental level.”

“Have you considered that I might have changed and now despise my former life here to the extent that this city stifles and suffocates me on a fundamental level?” Tony demanded.

“Is that why you’re making all these changes?” Happy asked.

Before Tony could expand upon his argument in earnest, his dogs Dummy and Hugh ran up and climbed in his lap, instantly bringing joy with their presence. “I do not wish to quarrel anymore,” he said, petting them. “I have made up my mind and I will be leaving this wretched town tonight.”

"I do not understand," Pepper said with a sad look in her eyes.

"Do you remember my father's aviary in Hampshire?" Tony asked, "and how the birds there were well fed, and could fly about their cage? And one day I set a linnet free, and it flew straight out of my hands towards the sun?"

"What of it?" Pepper asked.

"I feel like that...like the bird before it flew," Tony replied, turning away to look out the window.

“All right then,” Happy said with a defeated resignation. “We have discussed what to do with the rest of your fortune but there’s the matter of the money coming in from the sale of the house and a large sum of your fortune you asked me to set aside. What are your plans for it? Do you want me to call your banker for this discussion?”

“No need, I’ve already summoned him and someone else as well,” Tony said with a mysterious smirk.

“Who?”

“May I come in,” Rhodes said knocking on his door.

“I made a new friend,” Tony said, with a friendly slap on Happy’s back to go welcome the visitor.

“This is James Rhodes,” Tony introduced him to his friends. “I like to call him Rhodey.”

“Of course you do,” Pepper said rolling her eyes before shooting Rhodey an apologetic look.

“I know, his reputation precedes him,” Happy said.

Pepper looked between them confused.

“Rhodey is the leader of activists working towards freeing and rehabilitating black slaves brought to England. All the remaining money goes to him,” Tony declared, leaving all of them with gaping mouths. “I trust this to you and you alone, Happy.”

“Ah, thank you,” Rhodey said when he momentarily snapped out of his state of shock.

“I will remain in correspondence with you,” Tony told Rhodey. “Please do not hold back if my estate managers give you any trouble at all.”

“I will,” Rhodey said, still disbelieving and skeptical. “And again, thank you for your generosity.”

“None of that,” Tony said, raising a hand to dismiss the gratitude he still hadn’t earned. “Just keep doing the good work.”

With that, he left them to work things out and left to pack up the last of his things for the escape and solitude he so craved. On his way to Cornwall, the puppies slept in his lap while Tony gazed out admiring the beauty and wonder of nature, wondering what the future had in store with him now that he was a fugitive from himself.

_(Moodboard)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	2. What was Jarvis upto?

Tony had sent word of his arrival ahead of time, in fact, it was the first thing he did when he returned to England. Yet, he found the mansion engulfed in wilderness as untamed a thing as the forest surrounding the serpentine path leading up the cliff the house was perched upon. He tried knocking. No one answered. Ugh. He used his key to slip in like a common thief and not the lord of this manor.

“It smells like a tomb in here,” Tony grumbled as he fumbled with the latch of a window which had been rusted shut. As he dug his heels to battle the unyielding window, Dummy, the most insolent and disobedient dog in Cornwall, started chewing the heel of his shoe.

“No. Bad doggy,” Tony scolded him. “We no longer possess the kind of disposable income to satiate your taste for destroying expensive shoes.”

Dummy whined.

“What are you whining about? This is a dog’s paradise,” Tony said, pointing out the window where his other canine companion, Hugh, was having a merry time rolling in the grass. “Go run in the woods, find sticks that cost nothing, and chew on them all you want.”

He caught the reflection of a man standing behind him in the windowpane. He could have sworn the man was smiling at him but when he turned around the man was as still and solemn as a proper British butler. “I don’t remember you,” Tony observed. “Did you work here when I was last visited?”

“No sir, I did not,” the butler replied in a monotonous voice with the most subtle hint of sass in it. Or was he imagining it?

“The butler I hired, he was an old man. I can’t remember his name,” Tony said, snapping his fingers in frustration, “But I recall he had rheumatism and could scarcely walk. Where did he go?”

“To his grave, sir,” he replied.

“I see,” Tony said with a smirk. Now he knew his new butler was sassing him. “He hired you as his replacement?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What is your name?”

“Jarvis, sir.”

“Jarvis, I understand this place has been shut up for far too long but have you noticed that there is dust everywhere,” Tony said with dramatically outstretched hands.

“I have noticed it, sir,” Jarvis said with that dry sense of humor again.

“Will you make sure that every room in the house is swept and dusted, all the silver polished, and the gardens are tended to like I have always lived here and plan to do so for years to come?”

“It will be my pleasure, sir,” Jarvis replied with a little bow.

As Jarvis gave the servants their orders, Tony made his way to the workshop he had set up here for working metal. It took him only a few hours to restore it to its former glory. He wondered what project he would first undertake as he had tea and snacks out in his newly tended garden. He watched his dogs sniffing at bluebells in bloom and trying to make sense of this new landscape that was so different from their daily walks in the city, where they remained indoors for most of the day. They would love this place. Oh, yes, they would. Tony was certain of it. He left his seat to walk barefoot in the grass and sit down next to them to explain what bluebells are when to his absolute horror, a carriage came barging onto his property. Jarvis came rushing out, and before he had a chance to announce the visitor, a pompous man in an over-curled wig was at his heels.

“Lord Hammer is here to see you, sir,” Jarvis said in an apologetic tone.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Justin Hammer,” he introduced himself. Before Tony could even straighten himself out to look somewhat decent for company, the man went on, “I heard you were in residence and I considered it my duty, or rather my pleasure to pay my respects as soon as possible. It has been many years since you have visited. We have almost become strangers.” If only. Tony knew exactly what he was going to build in his workshop first, a cast-iron gate to ward off nosy neighbors from his estate. “We were such dear friends as children,” Hammer claimed, even though Tony only recalled being forced to visit his house once when their parents threw a dinner party, “But since you took over your father’s business, we have seen so little of you.”

“I am here now,” Tony said, unsure of what else to say to that other than draw attention away from him, “And I brought my dogs.”

“My wife would have accompanied me but…to put it delicately, we are expecting an heir,” Hammer said, sounding quite abashed like the perfect Englishman. How sad for his wife. He wondered how she endured making an heir with him. Tony zoned out on the rest of the pleasantries and news of neighbors and crops until Hammer finally got to the point. “We are so glad you arrived when we most need your assistance, Anthony, I’m sure you must have heard of our troubles.”

“I have heard nothing,” Tony replied.

“No? Oh, Anthony,” Hammer let out a dramatic sigh. “We are being terrorized by pirates. Ships full of valuable goods have been lost along the coast and my neighbor’s estate was recently robbed.”

“How distressing,” Tony said.

“It is more than that, it is an outrage,” Hammer declared, red like an angry little tomato now. “I have sent complaints to London and all they sent us was a handful of soldiers who are more than useless. It falls upon us land-owners to band together to deal with this menace ourselves.”

“What can I do to help?” Tony asked at last when he could no longer tolerate the desperate look of a street urchin plastered upon the man’s heavily powdered face.

“We were hoping you could arm us with your weapons so we can fight that damn Irishman,” Hammer replied. There it was…the request that followed him everywhere he went. He got to enjoy the peaceful countryside for half a day before someone came begging for arms at his doorstep.

“Irishman,” Tony asked instead because at least this fellow piqued his attention.

“He is a low sneaking foreigner, who somehow knows our coast like that back of his hand, and disappears like a fiend at the helm of a ghost ship before we can catch him. He creeps into the harbors at night, lands silently like the stealthy rat he is, seizes our goods, breaks open our stores and merchandise, and slips away on the morning tide while our men are rubbing sleep out of their eyes,” Hammer said, almost shouting in the end.

“He sounds like quite the strategist,” Tony mused.

“Scheming more like it,” Hammer answered, taking offense to the admiration in his tone.

“I’m afraid I can’t help,” Tony said, “I’m no longer in the weapons business and I’m far too old to go chasing after pirates.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Anthony,” Hammer said. “You’re a brilliant fellow and we need that to outwit him. You aren’t grasping the seriousness of the matter since you have just arrived but down here, we’re constantly robbed. Our women live in fear of their lives, and more, if you catch my drift.”

“Is he the kind of pirate who robs the women of their honor at sword point?” Tony asked, no longer impressed by the fellow anymore.

“No lives have been lost and none of our women have been taken yet,” Hammer said with a stiff constipated look about his face, “But as he is an Irishman, it’s only a matter of time before something dastardly occurs.”

Tony wanted to laugh. He had to turn away and pretend to tend to his dogs when he was seized by the uncontrollable urge for Hammer’s pomposity and prejudice was beyond bearing. Thankfully, Hammer had the good sense to take it as a gesture of dismissal and he left with a grand courtly bow. With half-hearted formalities and false promises of visiting for tea, Tony sent him off and immediately summoned Jarvis to lay some ground rules for visitors in the future.

“I came here to avoid people. To be alone for a while,” Tony told Jarvis, who looked to Hammer’s departing carriage with a look of guilt and failure. “My mood is to play the hermit while I’m here.”

“Yes, sir,” Jarvis said. “I made a mistake this afternoon. It will not be repeated. You shall enjoy your solitude and make good of your escape.”

“Escape,” Tony asked.

“Yes, sir, this is what I’ve gathered so far, that you are fleeing your former life and have chosen this as your sanctuary.”

“You are very intuitive, Jarvis,” Tony observed, “Where does it come from?”

“I once loved a witch who was a mind reader, sir,” Jarvis said with his unusual sense of humor. Oh, they would get along splendidly if Jarvis kept up with it.

Tony laughed. “What happened? You think something rude about her and she took offense to it and took off?”

“No, sir, she _travels_ a lot,” Jarvis said at last.

“Then all three of us are running from something, I suppose,” Tony said before he left for a walk to the cliff to build an appetite before dinner. “Could you fetch some parchment and ink for me, Jarvis? I wish to write a letter,” Tony said, skidding to an abrupt halt. We wished to utilize his time atop the cliff writing to Pepper and Happy about how he was tasked with capturing pirates during his retirement that they predicted to be nothing but dull and boring. Once he was satisfied with his walk and his letter which was bound to send Pepper into a nervous fit, he simply stood there staring into the abyss, watching the tides sweep these pristine shores.

Tony stood mesmerized by the setting sun painting the sky and the sea with its glorious warm hues, broken only by a smudge in the horizon, which slowly took the form of a ship, drifting ashore at a snail’s pace in the absence of wind. Then, a gust of wind washed over him, and the ship’s white sails fluttered and filled out as it came nearer and nearer. A strange sense of yearning and elation gripped his heart like a premonition of things to come. He walked back home, smiling to himself and humming a little tune as the sky darkened, the moon rose, and the cold breeze of the night whispered to the trees that stood sentry upon his estate for over a century.

Dinner was served by the time he reached home and he ate alone with a new and guilty enjoyment of dining alone at the head of a long imperial table while Jarvis served his food and lit up the tall candles. Their flame fluttered in the soft breeze creeping in through the enormous windows, casting strange shadows between them.

“Are there grapes?” Tony asked, suddenly reminded of them as Jarvis poured his wine. “I have a fancy for grapes, black and succulent.”

“Yes, sir,” Jarvis replied, fetching him a bunch for dessert.

“Jarvis,” Tony said, breaking the formal silence sucking all the life out of the room.

“Sir,” Jarvis asked.

“Before Lord Hammer barged in on us, one of the maids told me they are all new to the house,” Tony asked, careful to not make it sound like an interrogation. “I heard you sent for them only when you learned of my arrival. Even the cook is new.”

“That is true, sir.”

“I was under the assumption that this house was always fully staffed,” Tony asked, tossing a grape and catching it with his mouth.

“Well, I assumed that one idle servant was more than enough for a house no one ever visits so for the last year I have lived here alone.”

“I could dismiss you for that, Jarvis.”

“You could,” Jarvis challenged.

Tony went on eating his grapes, irritated and a bit intrigued by his baffling butler but he knew he wasn’t going to send him away, so he asked, “If I don’t dismiss you, what then?”

“I will keep serving you faithfully, sir,” Jarvis replied in calm and unbothered tone like the prospect of losing his job didn’t worry him in the least.

Tony retired for the night without a word. In this impertinent man, he sensed the potential for a blooming friendship. It was all wrong of course. Jarvis had no business living here alone. No wonder the gardens had grown wild, there was dust everywhere, and a graveyard smell lurked in most rooms. But had he not come here to seek solitude as well? He made his way upstairs to his room where a wood fire kindled in his hearth and his dogs slept in their little baskets in front of it. Someone had put lilac in all the vases in her room, filling it with a sweet and heady smell. His portrait stared down at him from where it hung above the mantelpiece, so blissfully ignorant and young, and oh so sulky and petulant about his mother making him sit with an artist for a portrait. Oh, to have those problems again!

He fell back upon his great deep featherbed which would be his and his alone for a long time to come. Ugh. He discarded his clothes and climbed underneath the covers. As his hand drifted down of its own accord, images flooded his mind, of a pirate, big and strong enough to easily overpower him, breaking into his room and putting a sword to his throat, intent on robbing him of his honor and taking him as he pleased. Wow. Tony hadn’t had such a quick and intense orgasm since he was a teenager. Of course, the shame washed over him as it always did when he indulged in such fantasies. What was the matter with him? That was the question that haunted him all his adult life as he overindulged in his desire for women and buried his desire for men deep within a closet of shame and self-hatred. No. No! He definitely did not desire men, just as he didn’t desire being taken by force. It was merely a silly fantasy that meant nothing. Nothing at all.

With a vehement shake of his head, he stretched out his clean hand to search the drawers of his nightstand for a towel or kerchief to wipe down the evidence of his shame, and once he did, his gaze fell upon the little jar of fresh tobacco and a book of poetry lying in one of the open drawers. Tony threw away the towel to investigate the matter. The tobacco smelled fresh. It couldn’t be old stuff lying around from his previous visit. Surely Jarvis didn’t have the audacity to sleep in his bed, smoking a pipe, underneath the watchful gaze of his portrait that made even him feel like an intruder in his own room. But who else could it be? That would be surely unforgivable. Though, given the dusty and disused state of the books in the house, he didn’t peg Jarvis for a reader, so he opened the book of poetry to where it was bookmarked. It wasn’t a bookmark. It was…it was an unfinished sketch of him. It was almost like someone had tried to replicate the portrait but didn’t bother sketching his face except for his eyes that were drawn far too large and doe-like for his taste. Did he really have such large feminine eyes? Or was the artist just being a dick about it? Tony tossed it aside, unsure what to make of it, when he heard a noise coming from downstairs.

He dressed and made his way to the bottom of the stairs and he saw Jarvis slipping away with way too much food than one man could possibly crave for a midnight snack. God damn it! What was his bloody butler up to? Tony made up his mind to confront him about what he had found in his nightstand and followed after the man, who, in a bizarre turn of events, went for the wine cellar instead of his room.

Now, Tony followed on tiptoes, silent as a cat. Jarvis set the food down on a table, and instead of eating his loot, he moved one of the racks to expose a door. Tony gasped. He knew of it. He knew. In a childhood memory buried deep within, he recalled what this room used to be before it was turned into a wine cellar and how it opened to the mouth of a cave. His father had proper steps cut into the rock which led down to the little sliver of beach caved in underneath the cliff. Why was Jarvis taking food down there? Worse yet, for whom…the realization dawned upon him as Jarvis made the high pitched sound of a bird and it was echoed by another from the depths of the cave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got so high off all the comments left on chapter 1 that I finished chapter 2 in less than a day. Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.  
> Also, in case anyone is wondering, I turned Dum-E and U into Tony's dogs, Dummy and Hugh, and Jarvis in this fic isn't Tony's childhood butler but a sort of human version of the combination of the AI from the Ironman movies and Vision.  
> 


	3. The Captain

Tony didn’t return to his room but he wasn’t sure if it would be wise to follow Jarvis down the cave entrance either so he flung himself upon a sofa in the salon and decided to wait for the butler to emerge from the wine cellar. Who could it be? Perhaps it was that witch he loved. Perhaps it was an entire family he had stowed away down there. Perhaps that was the reason why he dismissed all the servants and lived _alone_ here for the past year. As he turned these theories in his mind, his weariness betrayed him and he succumbed to sleep.

The clock struck five by the time he snapped out of his troubled half a night’s worth of rest. Ugh. When would he get a proper night’s sleep next? Careful not to make a sound, Tony snuck up to the wine cellar once again. The rack concealing the entrance to the cave was back in its place. Jarvis must have returned while he was asleep. He fumbled with the rack with restless hands, unable to decide whether or not he should do this. Who knows what was down there? Was it wise to go on a witch hunt, alone and unarmed, at this dread hour? Eh, what the hell! He pushed the rack with one decisive shove and plunged deep into the heart of the cliff without hesitation. He had run up and down the steps cut into the inside of the cliff so many times as a child that he could do this blind.

In fact, the instant he began feeling for the steps and the handholds in the cave walls, muscle memory took over to guide him down the path. This was his home. He knew it. He could do this. He slipped once but regained his balance after a few missed steps. His bum hurt like hell though. He no longer possessed the resilient body of his childhood when he stumbled, fell, and scraped his elbows and knees every day without a care in the world. Now he wished for butt cheeks made steel to endure these silly little adventures. Soon his eyes adjusted to the dark. The bioluminescence of the shimmering tides at the bottom of the cliff helped too. It was this magical blue glow of the sea that had him sneaking down there at night as a child. He slowly but steadily made his way down to the caved-in beach. The house was built at the edge of the cliff, right on top of the mouth of the cave, to secure this as a private beach accessible only through this stairway.

The only other way in here was from the sea but the rocks of the cliff were aligned in such a way that no one could spot it from the sea unless they knew what to look for, and worse yet, it took an excellent sailor to slither through the rocks instead of crashing. It wasn’t worth the risk. That’s why they never had to worry about outsiders. And that’s why Tony was so deeply shocked by the ship he had spotted at sunset docked on his property. To add insult to injury, his private caved-in beach now sported a little port for docking multiple ships. Was he still dreaming?

Tony pinched his arm. The ship and the port still stood there as he skipped the last flight of stairs and landed upon the soft sand. Now, this was an outrage! The first rays of light and the chirping of birds warned him of sunrise. He must leave instead of confronting a ship full of intruders on his own. Though, before he turned back, he saw the name painted across the side of the ship: _The Avenger_. Tony scoffed. He would go back upstairs and show Jarvis some avenging. He almost made it back to the stairs when he heard that familiar high pitched sound that came from deep within the cave earlier. Oh no. His hands went clammy, his mouth dry, and for the first time in his life, he felt a strange spasm of fear take hold of his heart.

He still had enough spatial awareness to know the sound came from the crow’s nest of the ship, the topmost part of the mainmast where some lookout probably spotted him lurking. Whoever it was, it would take them a while to get down from there, and he hoped, no, he prayed, that the rest of the crew was asleep. Tony made a run for it. He could still make it back home. Suddenly, his gaze fell to the shadow of a figure lurking behind him. Then, there was darkness. His attacker threw a sack over his head, blinding him, pinning him to his sides. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t struggle. Tony fell to his feet, suffocated, helpless, and well aware that he had lost.

His attacker dragged him back to the ship and summoned the crew in a thick Scottish accent. “Look what I caught, Hawkeye?”

“Happy to help, Scott,” said a distant voice from atop the nest as this Scott threw him roughly upon the ship’s deck after so crudely manhandling him all the way up here. How dare he? Tony was a ball of raw unbridled rage. How dare he truss him up like a fowl and brag about it like a hunter returning home with dinner? 

Tony freed himself from the sack and faced the man who had struck him down with a haughty frown, determined to remain dignified through this ordeal. The man merely laughed before he pulled a solemn face, feigning fear, and pretended to tremble. Scott had the stink of a fisherman about him. Tony wondered what sort of fishermen were these with no respect for nobility. No respect at all. He got his answer when a booming roar echoed throughout the caved-in beach.

“What is the meaning of summoning us all here at sunrise?”

“We caught an intruder, Fury,” Hawkeye said as he pulled a series of circus tricks to with ropes and the mast to make his way down from his nest.

No. No, no, no. Tony took one look at this Fury with his eye patch, and his dramatic clothes, and the parrot perched upon his shoulder, and instantly knew he was on board a pirate ship. Not just any pirate ship. He was certain _The Avenger_ belonged to the notorious pirate Hammer had warned him about and his property was the secret to their disappearing act. Fuck. This was the perfect hiding spot. He knew that. What was he thinking coming down here all alone?

“Then take him to the Captain, god damn it,” Fury yelled. “He’s the one who loves to start his day at this ungodly hour. What’s the point of waking the entire crew to deal with one puny little unarmed man?”

Tony glared at him with pure unadulterated hatred. Who was he calling puny and little? Tony slapped away Scott’s hand when it came to haul him up again and gestured him to lead the way instead. He refused to be mistreated by this stinky baby faced excuse for a pirate. As he followed after his captor, he couldn’t help but notice how clean and well maintained the ship was; he imagined pirate ships filthy, stained, and evil-smelling; instead, it was well maintained, freshly painted, scrubbed spotless, and the only smell the morning breeze carried across the deck was of coffee and bacon.

By the time they reached the Captain’s cabin, the other guy—Hawkboy or something—got here first to warn their leader, who now beckoned him inside. Tony inhaled a sharp breath. He was about to come face to face with the most dangerous man in Cornwall and what he did next could be the difference between life and death.

Tony stood at the threshold of the cabin, blinking a little from the sunlight streaming through the windows behind the Captain’s desk. Well, this got disappointing real fast. Tony imagined pirates to be desperate creatures with rings in their ears and knives between their teeth, living in dark holes full of empty bottles of rum and swords and cutlasses scattered everywhere. This was so…domestic with all the furniture and paintings.

Scott withdrew, closing the door quietly behind him. Tony was left alone with the Captain, who sat at his polished table, continuing to scribble something on a piece of parchment, taking no notice of his presence. He stood leaning against the door and hell-bent on not breaking the silence first in this little powerplay he knew all too well. Speaking of disappointments, this notorious pirate captain, who made his countrymen quake in their boots, was just a pretty boy with long eyelashes, supple lips, and youthful radiance to his skin. Sure, he had an imposing burly form, but right now, he seemed less of a threat and more of a dutiful schoolboy finishing his homework.

He was different from the men Tony had grown accustomed to. The Captain dressed as a gentleman…barely…in boots, black breeches, and a flowy white shirt that exposed most of his hard and hairy chest. All right, he dressed as a pretty wanton gentleman. Maybe that’s what pirates were outside his imagination. Still, he wore no heels to appear taller. He wore no flamboyant wigs that had become the fashion; instead, he wore his hair natural, pulled back, and falling to the nape of his neck, except for one strand out of place upon his forehead. Tony mistook his pale Irish complexion for an overly powered face but he soon realized that the man neither painted nor powdered his bare face. He didn’t even shave but let his stubble grow ungroomed and ran a hand through it every now. There was something so raw and rugged about him.

Tony ventured closer to the Captain’s desk to get a better look at whatever it was that was so important he couldn’t tear his gaze from it for a moment to address the prisoner his men had so rudely hauled up here. He wasn’t writing at all. He was drawing. He was sketching, finely, with great care, birds flying over the sea at sunrise. Tony was baffled. He was irrationally, unreasonably, pissed off at this man, who refused to play the part he had assigned him in his mind, of a menacing scoundrel spewing strange curses and oaths, not this grave figure seated at his desk, holding him in contempt for the crime of being captured on his own property. 

“It seems you have been spying upon my ship,” the Irishman said with the faintest trace of an accent marking his voice and still not bothering to show him the courtesy of looking up while addressing him. How dare he accuse him?

“On the contrary, you’re trespassing upon my land,” Tony replied in the cold and scathing tone of voice.

The Captain glanced up at once and rose to the full extent of his imposing height, and into is cold blue eyes, came a look of recognition, and he smiled a slow secret smile. “My apologies, I didn’t realize the lord of the manor had come to greet me in person.” He reached for a chair and offered it without a word and went on eyeing him with amusement in his eyes.

“Why was I seized and brought here?” Tony demanded because something had to be said to break the silence that was making him feel awkward and shy, him, Tony Stark, who had felt neither awkward nor shy for a single moment in his entire life.

“Its standard procedure for anyone lurking about the ship, please don’t take it personally,” he said with a dismissive swipe of a hand like it was nothing. When Tony kept glaring daggers at him, he added in a small unsure voice, “Did they rough you up? Are you hurt?”

“No,” Tony replied.

“What are you complaining about then?” he asked with a careless half-shrug.

“I am not used to being treated like this,” Tony said, angry at his callous attitude and his stupid pretty pout.

“I understand but let’s put this behind us,” he said, raising a hand in dismissal, and god almighty, what insolence, what damned impertinence, but his righteous indignation only amused the man more. 

“What happens now?” Tony asked.

“I must consult my pirate rulebook for that, my good sir,” he said in all seriousness before he began searching his drawers. Tony chuckled despite his anxiety over the small possibility that such a book did indeed exist. “That is better. Anger does not suit you. Now you look more like yourself.”

“What do you even know about me?” Tony scoffed.

“Tony Stark, the spoilt darling of the king’s court, who drinks in the taverns of London until sunrise or until he takes a new woman as a lover, whichever comes first,” he said, tilting back his chair. “You’re quite the celebrity, you know.”

Tony was stung by this shallow caricature of him as he grumbled, “That life is behind me now.”

“For now,” teased the Captain.

“Forever,” Tony gave a stern reply.

The Irishman reached for his sketch and added a few strokes to it. “You’ll tire of this place soon enough and the attractions of London will call out to you and you will only remember this as a passing phase.”

“Don’t presume to know me simply because you’ve heard tales of me. Your reputation presumes you as well, and I believe you’re projecting,” Tony shot back.

“This cliff is my refuge,” he agreed, glancing up at him for a moment. “I come here to rest, and when the idleness gets too much to bear, I set sail again.”

“And commit acts of piracy against my countrymen?” Tony asked.

“And commit acts of piracy against your countrymen,” echoed the Captain as he tossed aside his completed work of art and stood towering above him.

“They will catch you one day,” Tony said.

“One day, perhaps,” he said, looking out his window, where he stood with his back turned to Tony.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you a pirate?” Tony asked, unable to hold back his curiosity.

“Why did you stop building weapons, give away your fortune, and move to the Cornish Coast,” the pirate asked, over his shoulder with a knowing smile as if he was aware that either he would gain more out of this line of questioning or Tony would be the one to back out of it.

The pregnant pause was broken only by a knock on the door before his captor, Scott, entered the room bearing breakfast: bacon, freshly baked bread with cheese oozing from it in between lettuce and sliced meat, and piping hot coffee. Tony was far too hungry to let anger get in the way of his coffee.

“Would you like some?” asked the Captain, pouring some into a cup.

Tony nodded. They breakfasted in perfect silence and as his belly grew full, it chipped away at his anger and resentment, and he no longer begrudged the man for his capture now that he was shown some hospitality. Tony stole a few glances at him when he wasn’t looking and allowed the warmth to make home in his heart. That was until he retrieved a jar of tobacco and began loading his pipe. The realization struck him like a blow.

Tony stood, flinging his chair back. “It’s you! You left that book, the jar of tobacco, and that stupid sketch.”

“What?”

“You’re the one who has been sleeping in my bed,” Tony accused him.

The Captain smiled at Tony’s choice of words.

“Did I forget them there?” he asked, playing the innocent. “How careless of Jarvis to not have your room properly cleaned for you.”

“It was you he was serving all along. Now I know why he sent away all the servants. It was to harbor pirates in my home. You have been living here all this time!”

“No,” replied the Captain, again with that secret amusement in his eyes. “I just visit from time to time when it suits my plans but we usually keep to the beach. Except for in winter. You know how cold and damp it can get down here. It made for a nice change to seek comfort in your bed. I always felt like you wouldn’t mind.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“I consulted to your portrait, of course,” he joked. “I would say ‘My Lord’—for I was always very respectful—‘would you grant this cold and weary pirate the courtesy of your bed?’ and I always imagined you bowing gracefully and giving me permission for you have always been so generous.” His coquettish grin more than made up for the words left unsaid in judgment and jest…‘generous with your bed.’

Tony threw what remained of his sandwich at him, which he caught and gobbled up like the little shit he was. “It was very wrong and presumptuous of you. This is unforgivable. Absolutely unforgivable!”

“I’m not looking for forgiveness and I’m way past asking for permission,” he said, pointing out at the docks they had built upon his property.

“If I would have known earlier—”

“What would you have done?”

“I would have come here at once.”

“And?”

“Dismiss Jarvis, bar the house, and report you to the authorities.”

“All that, huh? When I lay in your bed, looking up at your portrait, that was not how you usually behaved in my imagination.”

“How did I behave?” Tony asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“Differently,” said the Captain, raising a sly brow. And what? What the hell was happening? Was this a battle of wits or was this man brazenly flirting with him? No. No, that couldn’t be it. Or could it? No. God damn it! “A lot less quarrelsome. A lot more agreeable.” The pirate broke him out of his panicked state of mind with a gentle, “Tony.” Not Anthony. But Tony. It was so improper and impertinent and familiar and oh so wrong, yet, it felt so right upon his tongue. “You gave me a home. My entire crew owed you their life and safety before you even knew of all that you had done for us. Now, you know our secret, and I do not wish to make an enemy of you, but trust you with it. Let us join as one.” With that declaration, he dropped a heavy book onto the table.

“What? What do you…what do you mean by that?” Tony mumbled since it felt a lot like a something so loaded and flitting between an indecent and a sincere proposition…but with a book. What was this man proposing? What did he mean _let’s join as one_? He opened the book to a list of signatures starting with the Captain— _Steve Rogers_ —and ending with his traitorous butler, _Jarvis_.

“Join my ship’s company, swear to hold our secrets, and uphold our law,” Steve proposed, offering him a quill to sign his name as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	4. Dinner?

It was a clever plot on behalf of the devious pirate captain who had certainly earned his reputation through his cunning, strategizing, and farsightedness. Tony thought this a game of cards. Steve was ten steps ahead of him in the mental chess game he had laid out for him. With a secret port hidden away on his property and the crew squatting in his house in his absence, if Tony signed their charter, it would appear as if he had always been in cahoots with them, and could no longer report them to the authorities or hunt them down with the likes of Hammer and his troops, which he never planned on anyway, without destroying his peace and reputation in the process as well. So it made sense that this is what Steve needed to trust him and let him leave without fear. And here he was, so preoccupied with the stress of his capture and his shameful appetites that he had completely lost his wits.

“What if I say no?” Tony challenged before voicing his worst fear nagging at the back of his mind ever since he was captured. “You’re going to kill me?”

“No,” Steve gave a vehement reply, so out of character with the callous pirate act. “I would never hurt you.” He cleared his throat and turned away before adding in a far more calm and composed tone, “That was never an option. I hope you know that.”

“Then what was the option?”

“I leave, find a new safe haven, and never come back,” Steve replied. Somehow, the thought of never seeing this man he had known for less than an hour filled his heart with a deep sense of loss and sorrow. What was that all about? He should be overjoyed to be rid of these freeloaders for good. Then, why did he want him to stay? Them. No. It wasn’t just about Steve. He laughed to himself. Who else? Hawkboy and eye-patch? Ugh. He needed to focus on the issue at hand.

“What purpose would I even serve by joining a company of pirates?” Tony asked, waving the quill at Steve.

“You have already done more than enough for us,” Steve said, gesturing at the caved-in beach under Tony’s mansion that they used as a hideaway.

“You mean, Jarvis did,” Tony corrected him since none of this was his doing or done with his consent.

“Fine, you’ve got me there,” Steve sighed, “But you’re not just our unwilling landlord. You’re also an engineer and a mathematical genius from what I hear.”

“And,” Tony stretched the word for all its worth, crossing his arms over his chest, daring Steve to finish that thought, to say it, to admit it, to ask the same favor Hammer did, to demand he arm them and return to the weapons manufacturing business for the sake of his merry band of rogues.

“Every ship needs someone with your talents who can gauge the winds and tides and do quick calculations for the position and setup of the rigs and the mast and the alignment of the ship,” Steve explained, using the miniature model of a ship lying on his desk.

“You’ve been more than competent at it so far,” Tony said, wondering what he was playing at.

“Me?” Steve chuckled. “No. The last time I tried my hand at it, I ended up crashing my first ship, _Valkyrie_ , straight into an iceberg. I would have frozen to death if Fury’s crew wasn’t trailing close behind. Old man Pym used to be our Chief Engineer until he retired. I promoted Scott from Second Engineer to take his place. He’s good…but his mind and his math fail him when we need it the most, like in the middle of a conflict, or when we’re seizing a prize, or when we’re under attack, or during a storm.”

“Doesn’t that make him practically useless as a pirate?” Tony asked. He still begrudged that bastard for his capture.

“Well, he’s fine under normal circumstances and level headed enough to follow clear instructions during a crisis, making him a great Second Engineer,” Steve defended his incompetent buffoon of a crewmate.

“Why would I wish to work with someone who put a sack over my head and hauled me up the ship with such crude indignity?” Tony asked, not appreciating the little laugh that slipped the Captain’s lips.

“Think about it this way, he’ll be bound to obey all of your orders,” Steve said in a singsong voice, tempting him with the prospect of exacting revenge on his captor.

“All my orders,” Tony asked, raising a sly bow.

“Well, we’re all free men here, so of course there are limits to power but any order that’s well within the bounds of his duties that doesn’t leave him overworked, oppressed, or harmed…sure,” Steve said, once again bringing his attention to the book. This should be fun but also the most reckless thing he had done in his life. He didn’t know what it was, whether it was this quiet comfort he felt in the company of this pirate, or the reminder of the life he left behind, or the fear of turning into the likes of Hammer, or the sight of the birds flying over the sea outside the window and Steve’s little sketch of it, but a yearning deep within urged him to forge this partnership with this man. Then it struck him…this was a bloody blessing! This could be the answer to all the problems that haunted him, that infringed upon his sleep, that oppressed his soul, and that broke his heart. 

“What do I get out of this?” Tony asked.

“A share of our loot,” Steve asked in a small unsure tone like this was the only thing he hadn’t thought through. “Share and a half,” he added when Tony seemed unconvinced. “Double?”

“I just gave up a fortune,” Tony shrugged. “I’m not exactly in it for the money.”

“So, you’re in?” Steve gave a cheeky smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He searched for another reason. “The gift of friendship,” he suggested, cringing a bit, knowing full well how weak an argument that was. “All right, just say it, what do you want?”

“I want a say in what prizes you go after,” Tony said. Steve grunted in dismay. “The people you rob, I know them and their business better than you do. I know the ones who deserve it the most. I know the ones who have far too much to miss whatever you take. I know what merchandise goes in and out of their ports. And I wish to shift our focus more onto sabotaging the operations of colonial companies.”

“It sounds like you want to take down the entire British Empire,” Steve said, half joking half dreading it.

“I didn’t become Tony Stark by aiming low,” Tony shrugged.

“No half measures, huh?” Steve asked.

“No half measures,” Tony echoed. “You asked me earlier why I stopped making weapons and gave away my wealth. Here’s why. Just hear me out.”

Steve nodded.

“All these atrocities started to maximize profits. Piracy puts a dent in those profits but most of that merchandise stolen is either insured or not significant enough to make the venture any less profitable. We hit them hard where it hurts and thin out those profit margins. I know that we might not succeed. I’m well aware. I’m not that eccentric. But if we make it all not worth the risk for the investors, then we just might succeed in changing the world for the better,” Tony laid out his proposal with the charming smile that worked on every investor and buyer that crossed paths with him.

“Anything else,” Steve asked sarcastically.

“There is,” Tony said, adjusting in his seat and getting comfortable now. “You also go after slave ships even though there’s nothing to be gained from them. I don’t know what your story is but I can guess that you’re not in it just for the money either.”

Steve didn’t raise his head but merely his eyes, and from underneath those beautiful long eyelashes, he said it so casually, “I used to be a captain in the royal navy.”

“You what…?” Tony asked, doing a double-take as he stumbled from the high ground he had acquired in this battle of wits.

“I was ordered to commit horrible atrocities in the Caribbean,” Steve confessed. “Don’t worry. I didn’t. I asked myself if my wages were worth selling my soul over. Whether it was better to be a monster or a traitor?”

Tony knew what he chose, yet he sat at the edge of his seat, hanging onto his every word. “Next morning I defected and warned Fury and Sam—you’ll meet them soon enough—of the attack about to be mounted upon their island.”

“I’ve met Fury,” Tony said.

Steve smiled. “They aren’t members of my crew. Fury runs a separate operation in the Caribbean. He and Sam go after the slave ships most of the time. We team up with them on some of their more dangerous missions. They team up with us when they are running low on funds and need a big prize. That’s it. That’s my story. Nothing special.”

“I disagree, don’t sell yourself short, Captain,” Tony said, his hand inching closer to the man’s hand but the regained control of his senses soon enough. He fidgeted with something lying on the desk as if that’s what he was going for all along, and added, “I can be of use on that front as well. I also know who imports slaves, how, when, from whom, and what routes they take. I even have an ally in London working on the other end of that problem.”

“You mean, Rhodes?” Steve asked.

“You know of him?” Tony asked, suddenly a bit paranoid about the amount of information Steve possessed on him.

“I know of him. Some of his activists tip us off from time to time,” Steve explained. “But I can see how you would be a better source as the new benefactor of their organization.”

Tony raised a brow. “You sound like quite the fan or rather a stalker, given the kind of tabs you keep on me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Steve said turning away from him but it was his pale Irish skin that betrayed him as he flushed scarlet in doing so. Yes. Tony was happy to have his game back.

“And another thing,” Tony started.

“What else? You’re very demanding,” Steve grumbled.

“As a matter of courtesy, you must return this call, and have dinner with me,” Tony suggested, unable to conceal his smirk at Steve’s reaction of visible inner turmoil.

“Only as a matter of courtesy,” Steve asked.

“You offered me breakfast. I must return the favor,” Tony replied.

“With dinner,” Steve teased. Was he flirting? Or was Tony imagining it? Ugh. He was far too sober and it was far too early in the day for him to be at the top of his game. His time to shine was after sundown with a glass of wine in hand to offer liquid courage on demand. That’s why he needed Steve to say yes to dinner.

“You can always stay until breakfast if that is what you crave,” Tony said in a moment of courage and boldness as he signed the charter and handed it back to Steve.

“Wouldn’t wish to overstay my welcome,” Steve said with an unreadable look in his eyes. Oh, how he wished Jarvis’s mind-reading witch could just tell him what the pirate captain was thinking at this very moment.

“Oh, now you’re all manners and propriety all of a sudden, huh?” Tony asked the man who had the audacity to sleep in his bed and turn his property into their base of operation.

“When shall I _come_?” Steve asked, stressing on the word with double meaning, “Sometime between six and eight this evening?”

Tony looked up at him in disbelief, laughed, and shook his head. “No,” he said, “I’m far too tired from this night’s adventures to entertain today. Not to mention, those hours are kept by the decent gentry of the quiet countryside. Pirates do not call upon gentlemen at that hour. They come stealthily by night, knocking upon a window, so that the lord of the manor, afraid for his life and safety, offers supper by candlelight.”

“As you wish,” Steve said with a gallant bow, “tomorrow at ten?” 

“It’s a date,” Tony said as he stood up to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because of your amazing comments, I was able to wrap up the next chapter today as well. Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	5. Touch Starved

Tony was filled with gentle warmth, such a strange and foreign sensation when Steve’s hand landed upon his back as he was escorted out of the Captain’s cabin. He realized it was the first time they had touched. Tony turned to meet the man’s gaze. Steve suddenly withdrew as if he just realized what he had absentmindedly done and either found it improper and mistook Tony’s heated gaze for a warning. Umm. Why? Put it back there. Tony sighed. Alas, he had never felt this touch starved in his life.

“I,” Steve started in a soft voice before clearing his throat.

“What?” Tony asked, hopeful.

“I must introduce you to the crew.” Steve said, leading him out to the ship’s deck and summoning the crew with the announcement that they now have a new crew member. One by one, they all emerged from their quarters.

Scott wasn’t pleased to find out that he would be reporting to Tony from now on, but still, he begrudgingly welcomed him to the crew. Tony winked at him with the promise of payback. Hawkeye came swinging from a rope and welcomed him a friendly slap upon the shoulder before even making his landing.

“And this is my seer,” Steve said as two women dressed in red and black walked up to them.

“Your what?” Tony asked.

“Wanda,” said the girl dressed in a red gown, with far too many rings on her fingers, and her hair tangled up in hundreds of intricate little braids gathered up together in a style he had never seen before. She clasped his hand between both of hers and closed her eyes in a truly bizarre gesture of greeting. “You’ve chosen wisely,” she said in an eerie tone to her captain with a knowing smile upon her lips.

“Are you in the one charge of the maps and the seeing glass?” Tony asked, more than confused now.

“Something like that,” Wanda smirked, “Rarely even weather predictions.”

“Wait,” Tony said as the realization suddenly struck him, “you’re the witch that Jarvis used to love.”

“Used to,” she asked, taking a step back in surprise, “He better still be in love with me. Did he meet someone new?”

“Not that I know of,” Tony replied.

All the while, he kept stealing glances at the other girl, whom he felt like he had met before even though there was no way it could be her. He turned to the one dressed in black like a boy, and asked, “You…look exactly like this Russian heiress I once met at a ball.”

“It is because I am her,” she replied, before offering her hand for him to kiss most regally, “Natasha Romanoff.”

“I recall receiving an invite to your betrothal ball, only for it to be unceremoniously canceled at the last moment with no explanation,” Tony said. “I suppose this explains it. I don’t mean to be crude but what is a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“Tony, don’t flirt with my crew members,” Steve warned.

“I’m not flirting,” Tony said, rolling his eyes skywards. “I’m merely curious.”

Natasha took one look at Steve, smiled, and replied, “I ran away from home before my betrothal. My parents sent a famous tracker after me. I didn’t make it too far before I was ambushed in Budapest.”

“Then how did you end up on a pirate ship?” Tony asked.

“My parents sent Hawkeye to track me,” Natasha replied with a pleased smiled as she leaned into the man in question. “Now, I use my name and network to move the stolen merchandise for these guys.”

“Tony, these are our friends from our sister crew,” Steve said, drawing his attention to the most stereotypical pirate in existence, Fury, and his two men. Fury introduced himself and his pet parrot, Maria, before clarifying, “I run my own operations in the Caribbean but we all team up from time to time. These are my two crew members, Sam and Bucky.”

“This is Redwing,” Sam introduced his falcon with far more enthusiasm than he could muster for his friend with a metal arm, “And this is Bucky.”

“Bucky is my boyhood friend and used to be my Chief Mate until the traitor jumped ship to theirs,” Steve said in a jesting tone, slapping him on the back hard enough to rattle the sad man who looked like he could really use a bath or a haircut.

“Why?” Tony asked.

“Why, indeed,” Bucky said, letting out a tragic sigh.

“You’re free to return, man,” Sam argued. Tony sensed some drama there that he wasn’t sure he wished to unpack.

“All right, then, moving on,” Tony said, searching for a safer target when his gaze landed upon two fine gentlemen who didn’t look like they belonged here almost as much as him. He felt an instant kinship.

“This is Strange, our surgeon, and Bruce, an apothecary with a rare gift for medicine and potions, who has saved all of our lives countless times,” Steve introduced them.

“I heard the nearby town desperately needs an apothecary,” Tony said with a firm handshake with the man he took an instant liking to and wished to have long scientific discussions with over tea.

“That could be a good cover for us to blend in while we’re here,” Bruce said to Steve before asking Tony, “Would it be too much of an imposition to ask if you could make some introductions?”

“It would be my honor,” Tony replied. “I’m sure you could also set up shop in the town while the crew isn’t in immediate need of a surgeon. You know, with no fights and injuries,” Tony blabbered underneath the unyielding and haughty gaze of Strange.

“Sure, why now,” Strange said. Uh. What was his problem?

“Friends, what do we have here? A new brother in arms?” asked a jovial voice that rung like a booming clap of thunder. It belonged to what could only be described as a gentle Nordic giant with luscious golden locks and a bright smile. He welcomed Tony with a hug. How… unconventional? Though, he wasn’t certain if he was being hugged or strangled because he felt crushed, suffocated, and the very life squeezed out of him as he stood there locked between the man’s enormous arms and his face buried in an ample bosom, unsure what to do and how to reciprocate. No longer did he feel touch starved. In fact, he wished for no one to come within five feet of him for at least a day after this.

“Tony Stark. It’s nice to meet you,” Tony managed to say while gasping for breath.

“Thor Odinson, the prince of Denmark,” Thor replied, putting him down at last. Tony looked around in confusion wondering it really was true but everyone else either believed it or gave up on challenging it a long time ago.

“What are you doing so far from home, your royal highness?” Tony teased.

Sarcasm was probably not his strong suit for Thor’s bright smile faltered. “Ah, to me, Denmark is a prison. My brother, who is also my sister, and fashions himself after the trickster god, Loki, and the goddess of death, Hela, depending upon his mood that day, seized the throne by committing regicide upon my most noble father, whose ghost appeared to me one night and charged me with the duty of avenging his death. I tried. I really did. Or at least I gave it my best. But Loki tricked me into killing the wrong man instead. I was judged and banished to England the very next day. On my way to these dreary lands, my ship was sacked by pirates, and what excellent pirates they were,” he said, standing shoulder to shoulder with his captain. “For among them, I found new brothers.” He turned to the girls and added with a touch of reluctance, “And sisters, of course.”

“Have you heard of this new play called Hamlet?” Tony asked. “You should go and watch it sometime. You’ll find it most relatable.”

“I have,” Thor said, taking offense, “and I see no resemblance whatsoever. Hamlet’s villain is his uncle, not his brother who is also his sister, and he is a procrastinating fool who keeps putting off avenging his father as he monologues endlessly about his suffering. We have nothing in common. Our situations are totally different.”

“I’d best be going now. Jarvis would go wake me up anytime now and he’ll grow suspicious if he finds my bed empty,” Tony said, taking his leave from the crew and making his way to the stairway cut into the inside of the cliff, leading him back home, but this time it wasn’t plunged in darkness, neither was his heart seized by fear. This time, he climbed them in the soft sunshine of the morning sun, smiling guiltily to himself like a child hugging a secret, and every time he turned back, Steve was right there upon his deck, smiling back at him, until he reached safely back home.

As he slipped back in, he ran into Jarvis, descending the staircase leading to the master bedroom with a troubled look upon his face. “Why so sad, Sourpatch,” Tony asked.

“Ah, Master Stark, I was worried when I didn’t find you in your bed,” Jarvis replied.

“I was out for a walk,” Tony lied.

“In those shoes,” Jarvis asked, taking a good look at his disheveled form, his gaze lingering in fear at his wet stockings.

“I had to clear my head at once. There was no time to change into something more sensible. And I must admit, Jarvis, I can see through things with such newfound clarity now.”

“So I observe, sir,” Jarvis said carefully.

“Don’t you wish to know where I went for my splendid walk?”

“Where, sir?”

“I walked down to my beach, the one that is so private and secluded and oh so enchanting like a fairy-tale. You see, it is a great hiding place for people seeking escape, _fugitives_ ,” Tony stressed before adding, “such as myself.”

“Sounds lovely, sir,” Jarvis answered with the perfect poker face. “I’ll go ask the cook to prepare your breakfast.”

“No need, I’m not hungry,” Tony replied, “And I wish to sleep some more now. Do not disturb me for lunch or tea until I’m well-rested.”

“Very well, sir,” Jarvis said, practically flying away from the scene.

“Oh, and before I forget,” Tony called out after him, “I’m throwing a small dinner party tomorrow. The hour is a bit unconventional and late, ten o’ clocks. I believe the rest of the staff would be abed by then, so you would have to make all the preparations on your own.”

“Very well, sir. How many guests would be attending?”

“Just one,” Tony replied. “The gentleman would be coming on foot, so there’s no need for the groom to stay up and mind a horse either. Can you cook, Jarvis?”

“I’m not entirely ignorant in the art, sir.”

“Can you also keep this a secret from everyone else in the house?”

“My lips are sealed, sir”

“In fact, Jarvis, I propose to behave outrageously tomorrow.”

“So it would seem, sir.”

“Are you dreadfully shocked, Jarvis?”

“No, sir.”

“Why not, Jarvis,” Tony asked with a hand on his hip.

“Because there is nothing you or Captain Rogers could do to shock me at this point, _sir_ ,” he said with a sly smile.

Tony burst out laughing. “How could you tell?”

“There was something about your walk and your eyes—if I may say so without giving offense—that felt very much alive as you came from the direction of the wine cellar instead of the front or back entrance. I put two and two together and thought to myself: _They have met at last_.”

“Why at last, Jarvis?”

“Because I’m a fatalist, sir, and I knew it was only a matter of time before your paths crossed.”

His dogs, Dummy and Hugh, came running out of the room and jumped him like he had died, journeyed through the underworld, and came back to life after all their prayers. “Stop it,” Tony giggled as they licked him senseless. “Stop it. I mean it. I’ll put you two on guard duty to deal with the likes of Hammer if this doesn’t end at once,” he tried to scold them but it didn’t hold given what a laughing mess they had reduced him to. “Jarvis,” Tony begged for help as he gathered them up in his arms and offered them to the butler to take them off his hands during their insane bursts of energy in the morning.

“I’ll take them for their morning walk, sir, you enjoy your rest.”

And rest he did. Tony fell into a deep restful slumber the likes of which his conscience didn’t permit him ever since he returned to his country with a broken heart. When he rose from it, he thought of the dinner that was still more than a day away with the guilty excitement of a conspirator but he also felt like a ball of nerves and dread. Tony made his way to his workshop. And it was working metal while the puppies watched on from a corner of his workshop that soothed his unquiet mind. Here there was no anxiety. Only work. He had a task cut out for himself, he knew exactly how to go about it, and it kept his mind and body constantly busy. He only stepped away from his work when Jarvis brought him food or reminded him it was time for bed, but other than that, he was hell-bent upon toiling away to build the big beautiful cast iron gate he had designed.

The sun had gone down a while ago but he still worked by the light of the forge as the iron melted for his final cast. He asked Jarvis to remind him to take a bath before dinner and expected to be done with the gate by then. There was a knock on the door that sent the dogs into a frenzy of barks. That was odd. Was it already nine o’clock? And why were the dogs barking at Jarvis? Unless…it was an intruder, maybe Hammer was back, maybe he found out about the pirates and sacked their ship and saw his signature in the charter. Tony grabbed his blacksmith’s hammer which was only fitting for his foe and opened the door with a bang.

“Hey,” Steve yelled, raising both his hands in surrender and brandishing a bottle of wine. “I brought wine.”

“From my cellar,” Tony asked, reigning in his dogs and setting aside the hammer. He wasn’t pleased with Steve arriving before time and sneaking up on him when he was still so filthy, disgusting, and unwashed. This was him at his absolute worst and he planned to bathe in perfumed water and dress in his finest silks for the night. Damn him for sabotaging his plans and seeing him like this.

“From my ship,” Steve corrected, taking offense to the insinuation. “Besides, the cellar door is barred by a heavy rack on the inside; one can’t come through it unless it’s removed.”

“Then how did you get here? And why so soon,” Tony asked, looking to the clock in his workshop. “It’s only eight.”

“You’re the one who wanted me to come stealthily like a pirate,” Steve pouted. “How could I do that if I arrived on time when your butler granted me entrance? Also, I was getting anxious and bored waiting for supper until such a late hour—I usually rise before the sun and am abed by this hour—so I rowed my boat to the closest shore and hiked up here to stay active and awake.”

Tony smiled at the thoughtfulness of the gesture and it was nice to know that he wasn’t the only one nervous for tonight. He picked up the bottle of wine to change the subject and let out an impressed whistle. “This must have cost you a fortune.”

“Not really,” Steve said, running a hand guiltily over the back of his head, “But it is the finest bottle of wine from my loot to date.”

Tony raised a brow.

“I couldn’t bring a cheap bottle of rum for a fancy dinner with my esteemed landlord, now could I?”

“Thank you, it was very thoughtful of you,” Tony said with a smile that came gushing upon his lips despite his best efforts to contain it. “But now that you have arrived so unceremoniously early and seen me in rags, you might as well help me with this last cast.”

“What do you need me to do?” Steve asked, rolling up his sleeve, and my god, this simple act was Tony’s greatest weakness. Just as the sight of a woman’s exposed ankle held the promise of all the wonders she hid underneath her skirt, the sight of a man rolling up his sleeves, instantly made him a hundred times more attractive in Tony’s eyes. He tore away his gaze and calmed his breath. Get a grip, Stark.

“All right, hold this,” Tony pulled out one of the smelting cups with a pair of tongs and handed it to Steve and pulled out the other for himself. “Pour it gently into the cast, ensuring it spreads evenly,” he said, leading them to where he had set up the earthen cast onto the floor.

“You know, when we first met, I didn’t expect you to be the kind to get your hands dirty like this,” Steve said, following after him, adorably careful with his cup.

“Umm…how did you think I made weapons?”

“I always assumed the factory workers did this sort of work,” Steve replied in earnest.

“They did,” Tony said, “But innovation requires more than sketching up designs and waiting for them to magically manifest at the hands of others. It’s a long and grueling process that requires you to get your hands dirty.”

“Am I doing it right?” Steve asked, slowly pouring the molten iron into the cast.

“At that rate, your iron would harden in your cup before you are done pouring it,” Tony teased, pouring his share with quick and steady hands, showing off a bit for Steve.

Steve watched the glowing golden liquid spread through the cast into ornate shapes designed for the gate with a childish twinkle in his eyes before he confessed, “I know this is just a gate but it feels like a magical spell.” ([The Visual For This](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/627274376106115073))

“It does summon a gate to ward off nosy neighbors,” Tony said, wiggling his brows.

“And fairies, since its iron,” Steve said in all seriousness.

Tony laughed until the man’s cute little frown confused him. “Wait… Are you serious? I thought fairies were good, if they even exist.”

“They most certainly are not, they are evil creatures you do not want anywhere near your home,” Steve said in a sudden outrage.

“Fine,” Tony conceded. “They were gentle and helpful in the fairy tales I grew up with as a child.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve asked, tilting his head like his puppies often did when they were confused. “Fairytales are grim and dark cautionary tales to teach kids not to be overly trusting and warn them of all the dangers lurking in the world.”

“They most certainly are not,” Tony protested. “The fairytales I grew up with were stories of magic and adventure where everyone ended up happily ever after.”

After a long pause, clearly putting a lot of thought into it, Steve said, “It must be either because you are rich or because you are British. Would you mind if this poor Irishman sings a song his mother used to sing to ward off fairies at night as we pour the last pair of cups?

“Go ahead,” Tony said, quite enjoying this beautiful lullaby this ruthless pirate sang for him, filling his heart with safety, warmth, and a feeling that could only be described as home.

They were jolted for their little bubble of intimacy when Jarvis came knocking on the door. “Captain Rogers, what are you doing here?” he scolded. For Tony, he had a solemn, “Your bath is ready, sir.”

“Well, you can sneak Steve into the bathhouse, dismiss all the servants for the day, and draw another bath for me in my private chambers. It’ll be there soon enough,” Tony ordered.

“Hey, I cleaned up and put on clean clothes before I left,” Steve protested, grasping his white shirt which was now thoroughly spoiled from rowing, hiking, and playing the blacksmith.

“I meant no offense, Captain, I simply wished to treat you with a luxurious bath since you don’t get to indulge in things like long baths on your ship,” Tony said. “The bathhouse is also the most convenient place for you to wait while I take my sweet time getting ready because the servants don’t venture in that direction, while it’s occupied, to respect my privacy.”

“I would still feel bad seizing it from you. Maybe we could bathe together,” Steve suggested with such sincerity that Tony wasn’t sure if this was some sailor thing after years of living in close quarters or if the man was making an indecent proposition. If it was former, Tony’s treacherous cock was bound to give away his true feelings.

“No. If I join you,” Tony said, waving a hand at his dirty greasy form, “Then bathing would leave you dirtier than before.” Steve blushed profusely, his pale complexion betraying him once again, and Tony turned the words he had uttered in his mind only to realize how horrible it must have sounded. “I meant because of the grease and the dirt,” he blurted out. “Why are you still standing there, Jarvis, sneak him in, dismiss the servants, draw me a bath, go, go, chop-chop.” With that he turned his back to them, pretending to be busy as he concealed his shame and embarrassment. Ugh. He turned to his dogs and sighed, “How will I survive tonight?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right fam, next chapter is gonna be a big one. Tonight's the night. Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	6. Dinner Date

Tony sat in the tub Jarvis had hauled up and set up right in front of the fireplace in his room to ensure the water doesn’t cool too soon. He profusely scrubbed all the dirt and grime off his skin leaving it red and raw from all the nervous energy and tension coursing through his body. He wondered what Steve was doing right now. In his mind’s eye, he could see Steve, beautiful, strong, and lovely Steve, luxuriously floating in the little pool laden with rose petals and perfumed bath oils, shrouded in the stream that dominated the entire room. Tony sighed at his cock that rose at once. See, this is why he didn’t join in at the bathhouse. He knew his cock would embarrass him in front of his trusting guest.

“Why are you like this?” Tony asked his cock. “There’s only one way to make sure you behave during dinner.” He jerked off fantasizing about running a sponge over his guest’s round bulky chest, helping him through his first time in a proper bathhouse, while the pirate kneads his ass, parting his butt cheeks, with one daring finger trying to invade his…Oh!

“Sir, are you done with your bath?” Jarvis asked, walking in on him as he lay in his tub with his head hanging back in orgasmic bliss.

“What did you prepare for dinner, Jarvis?” Tony asked, getting lordly on his butler to conceal his embarrassment. “Also, you better bring out our best silverware and use that dinner service,” he said, snapping his fingers, “the one with the rose border, shut away for special banquets. It’s wasting away in the cupboard anyway.”

Jarvis smiled, offering him a towel. “Rest easy, sir, I will not disappoint.”

While Jarvis left to rummage through the closet, Tony wiped himself down and made his way to the bed where his butler had laid out his best underwear and stockings. That was rather presumptuous of him. Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe Jarvis simply assumed he was to dress his best for tonight.

A muffled question came from the closet as he put on his underclothes. “Which shirt would you like me to fetch, sir?”

“The one with the finest lace at the throat and the wrists,” Tony replied.

“What’s your mood for the coat and breeches, sir?”

“I’m in the mood for silk,” Tony replied, pulling up the stockings.

“Any color in mind, sir?” Jarvis asked.

“Thrill me,” Tony said.

“Sir, these are your three best silks in Captain Roger’s favorite colors,” Jarvis said, laying out the red, white, and royal blue sets while handing him the shirt with the beautiful lace.

“Which one do you favor, Jarvis?” Tony asked, putting on his shirt with great care.

Jarvis raised the red—a nice deep shade, almost wine-colored—with intricate gold embroidery and great detailing. “I favor the red, sir.”

“Of course you do,” Tony said, recalling the witch’s red hair and gown. “A little ostentatious, don’t you think?”

“What was I thinking? You are usually so discreet, sir,” Jarvis quipped.

Tony reflected upon his choice of shoes, wishing to stand as tall as Steve even if the heels kill him, and settled upon his tallest pair. “Tell you what, throw in my red shoes, the tall ones with the gold buckles, and it would be a perfect match.”

“Yes, that should help you keep a low profile,” Jarvis said as he went to dig up the shoes.

Tony chose his jewelry with great care, selecting a large ruby ring studded in a regal gold setting when he looked up at his reflection in the mirror. Steve will not notice. He will not care. He is not the sort of person who cares for fashion or jewels. What if Steve thought him pompous, rich, and vain and despised him for it? No, he couldn’t bear it. But he couldn’t go to dinner dressed in plain clothes either. He simply couldn’t. That would go against everything he stood for, believed in, and would feel like a pretense to make the man like him. Maybe he would just forgo wearing a wig and wear his hair naturally. He was still young enough to have thick curly brunette locks that fell to his chest. He wouldn’t even style them but simply wear them down. Yes, that would be more than enough for simplicity, he decided, as he combed and waxed his goatee and Jarvis brushed his hair to shape them into effortless waves. He could still embrace simplicity by forgoing powdering and painting his face too and wear it as bare as Steve did. Okay, maybe just a little around the eyes.

“How do I look, Jarvis?”

“Handsome as always, sir,” Jarvis replied before taking the liberty to add, “Our good Captain would not be entirely indifferent to your appearance.”

“Speaking of, where is he right now?” Tony asked.

“Still enjoying all the wonders of the bathhouse like a child with a new toy, I’m afraid,” Jarvis replied. “If I have your leave, sir, I have to go summon him and fetch his fresh pair of clothes, I asked Wanda to get from the ship.”

“Jarvis,” Tony said, coming up with a sudden scheme, “You go fetch the clothes. I’ll let our guest know it’s time for supper.”

“As you wish, sir,” Jarvis said and this time Tony was certain he caught him smiling when he turned away to leave.

He made his way to the bathhouse and heard the sound of music echoing from in there. Schooling his expressions so they don’t give away him mischief and excitement, Tony opened the door a bit, poked just his head inside, and announced that it was time for dinner. Steve suddenly stumbled from where he leisurely floated around in the pool and wrestled with the water to get into a vertical position. Tony only caught a glimpse of him through the steam in the room but he was far more beautiful than the vision of him he had conjured up in his mind. His happiness, enjoyment, and satisfaction made more than up for giving up the bath and the opportunity to share it with him.

“Tony,” Steve said, awkwardly getting his hair out of his face now that he finally managed to get back on his feet. “I’m sorry. Am I late? I just got too caught up in the bath. You were right. It’s very luxurious and refreshing,” he blurted without taking a breath.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Tony said with a little smile. “And you’re not late. Jarvis went to fetch your clothes so I thought I should let you know it’s time to wrap up your bath.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” Steve said, and without warning, he just…stepped out of the pool and grabbed the bucket of cold water to pour over his head. Tony shut the door behind him and lay a hand to his heart. He didn’t see much in the steam but the little glimpse he caught of the man’s glorious ass was more than enough to fuel his fantasies for a lifetime.

When he noticed Jarvis heading this way, Tony made a run for the dining hall. There’s no way he would let his butler catch him wanton and flustered. He discovered that Jarvis had arranged the room exactly as he wanted. Every single candle in all the chandeliers, wall fixtures, candelabras, and candle stands was lit up, filling this part of the house with a romantic glow. There were lilacs and roses in every vase. The bright silver shone on the table, and to his great delight, Jarvis had set up their best dinnerware even before he was told to do so. The white wine Steve had brought along was chilling in its ice bucket and the first course of oysters was already awaiting them on the sideboard. It was perfect. Jarvis had truly outdone himself.

“Jarvis, you’re a genius,” Tony complimented as the butler brought along their guest, who was hurriedly tucking his simple loose white shirt into his somewhat formal blue pants. He went straight as a plank at the sight of Tony, which greatly pleased him, but his self-conscious run of a hand to set his wet hair back broke his heart a little bit.

“I didn’t know it was a formal affair,” Steve apologized.

“You look perfect,” Tony said, allowing his gaze to linger upon the man’s exposed chest.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Steve said, not exactly subtle about perusing his form for head to toe either.

When their eyes met, Steve instantly turned away like a thief caught red-handed and looked about at the blaze of candles, at the bright silver, at the shining plates with the rose border, and then his gaze returned to Tony with that same old mocking smile of his. “Is it wise to put all this temptation before a pirate?”

“And are you… _tempted_ by what you see, Captain,” Tony asked, stressing on the word with an intentional innuendo.

“A little. You have put all your treasures out on display for me,” Steve replied with a cheeky grin. “This candelabra, for instance, is worth several hundred pounds.”

“Ah, but then I trust you,” Tony teased.

“You shouldn’t,” Steve said with a little wink.

“I throw myself upon your mercy.”

“I have known to be merciless.”

“Blame Jarvis, it’s all his doing,” Tony said, waving it off.

“I don’t believe that for an instant,” Steve said, sounding indignant. “He never made these preparations for me before. Now did you, Jarvis?” he asked the butler in a jesting tone. “You cooked me a chop and served it on a chipped old plate and you brushed away one of the dusty covers from a chair and told me I must be grateful and content.”

“Yes, indeed,” Jarvis said with a twinkle in his eye. Tony no longer felt nervous or shy, neither did he feel anxious or unsure about his appearance, and no longer did he dread the evening as the butler’s poles-apart relationship with them both made him a calming presence between them. And just as he thought so, Jarvis excused himself to go fetch the soup course.

“It is all so different compared to my winters here,” Steve said to Tony with more sincerity now that they were alone. “There was something austere, haunted, and abandoned about this place before you came.”

“All empty houses are like crypts,” Tony supplied.

“But I don’t think this place would have come alive as it did if anyone but you had broken its silence,” Steve complimented.

Tony did not answer for he was not sure what his guest meant by it. He only smiled at the look of genuine pleasure and delight in Steve’s eyes. Was there admiration too there? Or was he merely imagining it? They took their seats at the opposite ends of the grand table and as Jarvis served them the oysters, the white wine their guest had brought along, and two little bowls of wild mushroom soup.

“I never cared much for mushroom soup but this is positively divine,” Steve praised Jarvis, who accepted it with a gracious little bow.

“Really,” Tony asked, tasting it for himself. “You’re right. It’s lovely. I think it’s because the mushrooms are whole and not overcooked, otherwise, I can’t stand it when it’s pureed and stuffed with cream.”

“I despise that as well,” Steve agreed, drinking another spoonful, this time letting out half a moan which was more than enough to throw Tony entirely off his game.

“Yes, that just makes it taste like cum,” Tony blurted out.

Steve choked and began to cough profusely.

Jarvis made a napkin manifest out of thin air like a magician, offering it to their scandalized guest at once. He stood behind Steve, shooting Tony a look of disapproval. “Sir, I do not appreciate you making such crude comparisons for the food I spent all day preparing.”

“I didn’t,” Tony said in a small voice. “I said your soup tastes nothing like—”

“Sir,” Jarvis warned.

“I’m sorry, Jarvis, let us change the subject,” Tony said, now that Steve had calmed down and had stopped choking on his soup. “You know,” he began, throwing the ball into the butler’s court while he regained his wits, “I have pieced together why you sought out a job here, dismissed the other servants, and lived alone all that time. What I don’t understand is why you don’t join the crew and your woman on their voyages?”

“Alas, for the most prosaic and unromantic of reasons,” Steve said, tossing aside the napkin with a devious smile. “Jarvis has a sensitive and uneasy stomach. He can’t tolerate the sea even for an hour.”

“So, he searched for and tended to the best hiding place for you?” Tony asked Steve, more amused than resentful for it by now.

“Seemed more appropriate,” Steve replied.

“And Cornish men are robbed and Cornish women go in fear of their lives and honor at night,” Tony said, hiding his mouth with his glass of wine now that they had recovered from his blunder and had finally landed upon a decent strategy in this chess game of seduction which could be easily dismissed for friendly banter if not welcomed.

“Cornish women flatter themselves,” Steve replied, guzzling down an oyster.

“Why? Do you think yourself too good for our Cornish women?” Tony teased as Jarvis left them alone to go get the next course from the kitchen.

“It’s not just Cornish women I feel incompatible to,” Steve said, fiddling with his glass of wine with nervous anxiety.

“Do you hate women in general? Is that why you never married,” Tony pressed as he heard Jarvis’s footsteps fast approaching.

“I’m not a woman-hater,” Steve said with a shy little smile. “But I suppose my reasons for never marrying are quite contrary to yours. You love women a little too much and do not wish to settle down with one for the rest of your life. I, on the other hand….” Steve turned to the butler, who had arrived with the fish course, and his face instantly lit up with delight when he lifted the cloche. “Ah, I love smoked salmon. My mother used to make it to cheer me up when I was a silky little child.”

“I still have a hard time believing you were either sickly or little, Captain Rogers,” Jarvis said, offering him a little extra to mother-hen him.

Tony was still reeling from what his guest had hinted at. What was he going to say? What did he even mean by what he had said? His mind had short-circuited to the point of absolute incomprehension. Could it…? No. No, it couldn’t. He was hearing what he so desperately wished to hear. That is not what Steve could have meant. Or could it? What if he did mean it? Tony feared Steve might be one of those rugged men who despised and made fun of men who wandered the streets openly flirting with men; men who made him feel like he had something to prove and overcompensate for by bedding far more women than they could dream of; men who made him feel he must bury his most shameful secret in some closet forever; men who would punch him in the face and kick him while he was down if they ever uncovered the truth. Was Steve not such a man? Did Steve share the same secret sexual appetites as Tony? And still, a terrifying pirate captain who struck terror into the hearts of his countrymen and had a crew that not only followed his command but also respected him?

Jarvis took one look at the two of them and left with an awkward, “I must go put some finishing touches to the main course.”

“You, on the other hand, what?” Tony asked with much urgency.

“Huh?” Steve asked with a confused look and a mouthful of salmon.

“You were saying that I love women too much and you,” Tony said, waving his hand with impatience to hear the rest of it.

“As I was saying,” Steve said after a pregnant pause, either losing that line of thought or wanting to put it to rest, “I don’t hate women. I most certainly do not. It’s just… the thought of being with one….” Steve shuddered. “I have kissed women on several occasions, but somehow, it kind of made me want to kill myself afterward. You probably would not understand.”

“Are you disgusted by the very idea of intimacy,” Tony asked, feeling a bit guilty for his little ploy of wining and dining and seducing the man.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Steve spoke in barely a whisper to his cup of wine.

“I think I do understand,” Tony said, mustering all his courage and skill for slipping his true meaning between the lines. “You only know of my love for women but that is only half of it.”

Steve glanced up from where his gaze was fixed upon his food and wine, refusing to meet his eye, but now that he did, there was a look of horror in his eyes like the wind had been knocked out of his sails. All his cocky smiles and smirks and flirtatious remarks suddenly disappeared as if he was reevaluating their entire relationship and turning every interaction in his mind under a new light. A cool breeze blew into the room through the large French windows in the room. It stirred quite the game of shadows and the heady smell of flowers. Steve’s eyes shone with sheer panic and terror. Oh no. Had he destroyed the potential for a great friendship and partnership by grossly misreading the situation, so blinded by his own desire, that he had cast Steve into a role that did not become him?

Tony was about to apologize when Steve shot him a desperate questioning gaze. What? What did he want? What could Tony do to fix this? He was prepared to give him the world if it meant wiping that look off his face. He didn’t know what Steve saw in his eyes but all of a sudden, the storm passed, and this hot and heavy stifling silence, laden with so many things unsaid between them, kept blooming into something comfortable and soothing, and neither wished to break this beautiful thing born from the stillness.

Their little staring contest came to an end when Jarvis cleared the dishes and set up the main course of crab dressed and prepared in French fashion, with a side of small potatoes cooked in their skins, and a fresh green salad sprinkled with garlic and tiny scarlet radishes. “Would you mind if I bring out the dessert as well, sir?” Jarvis asked, surveying the atmosphere of the room. “I am tired and wish to retire for the night.”

“You may, Jarvis, and thank you for preparing this wonderful meal for us. It was perfection,” Tony said before he and his guest ate in comfortable silence and Jarvis left them alone with strawberries from his garden covered in chocolate.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Tony broke the silence at last when they were almost done with their dinner. He had to know. He had to know for sure. He had to ensure he wasn’t imagining it. “Are you happy in your life of eternal bachelorhood? Doesn’t it get lonely?”

“I am content,” Steve replied after a careful pause.

“What is the difference?”

“Happiness is a fickle and elusive thing. Contentment is a more peaceful and continuous state,” Steve shrugged. “I am content when I turn to my art for refuge or when I am out on the open sea, making merry with my men.”

“Yes, but what of love, romance, and passion?” Tony asked, casting aside his plate, and serving the chocolate covered strawberries to his guest, sitting all the way across the table from him, and taking the rest of the platter with him to eat straight from it.

“What of it?” Steve shrugged, some of the cheekiness returning to him.

“Don’t you crave it when you’re out making merry with men on the open sea?” Tony asked, playing dirty with cheap tricks of seduction in his choice of devouring the strawberries.

“Why does it have to be mutually exclusive?” Steve asked, returning the favor by playing the same trick with his strawberry as well but with a look of feigned innocence to challenge him. Oh, he was good. He knew exactly what he was doing and the bastard took great delight in it as he gobbled up the last of his dessert while Tony still stood halfway across the table with his platter in hand and mouth agape. Inhaling a sharp breath, Tony turned away from his guest and finished his dessert even more wantonly as he blew out all the candles one by one.

“Join me in the salon for after-dinner drinks,” Tony said, swiping their unfinished bottle of wine as he extinguished the last candle, plunging the room into darkness.

He wasn’t surprised to find out that his oh so brilliant butler had set both the dog beds out here in front of the fireplace instead of his room. Tony smiled. “You may smoke if you wish,” he offered, pointing at his collection of cigars and the jar of tobacco Steve had left behind in the master bedroom.

“The perfect host,” Steve said, making his way to the fireplace, where he crouched down to pet the dogs. “But I don’t wish to since the smoke would irritate your dogs.”

Tony filled two glasses with a generous pour for wine to finish what was left in the bottle and offered him one. To his great delight, when Steve took a seat, Dummy, the dog with the worst instincts in all of England, jumped into the pirate’s lap in a display of trust and affection, snuggling in while Steve sat in the armchair sipping the wine and stroking the dog’s fur. Tony took the seat beside him and watched his other dog, Hugh, as he slept peacefully in the warmth of the fire.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Tony began in a little sing-song voice.

“What have you been thinking about?” Steve asked, raising an amused little brow.

“You told me you defected from the royal navy when asked to commit terrible atrocities. I’ve been trying to put myself in your shoes. And I couldn’t make sense of how one takes the leap from defecting to becoming a pirate captain?” Tony asked, to which Steve smiled to himself like he was expecting something else entirely.

“They imprisoned Bucky for conspiring against the empire and committing acts of treason when they couldn’t get their hands on me,” Steve explained, setting Dummy down in his basket, and leaning against the mantelpiece. “I acted alone when I defected. Bucky was innocent and completely unaware of it. I couldn’t let him rot in jail for my mistakes so I had no choice but to hatch a plan to bust him out. By the time I was done, I had a ship, a crew, and was wanted for so many crimes that piracy seemed like a natural progression.”

“You must really love Bucky,” Tony said with more than a touch of jealousy.

“Indeed, I do,” Steve agreed. “I love him very much.”

Tony looked up at him and asked, “As brothers or…”

“How else would a man love another man?” Steve asked with a wicked smile.

“How else, indeed,” Tony said, giving him a once over and letting his gaze linger upon the pirate’s booty for far longer than it would be deemed appropriate. He stood from his armchair and leaned against the mantelpiece as well, facing Steve, though he didn’t meet the man’s eye, but gazed into the fire as he put forth his boldest question of the night. “Considering your repulsion to women and your contentment in the company of men at sea, have you ever considered how life would be if men were allowed to be with men?”

“Like marriage among men and women?” Steve asked.

Tony nodded.

“Well, there is always Matelotage,” Steve said like he was supposed to know what it meant.

Tony shrugged.

“It is a marriage-like partnership among two pirates where they draw up a contract to join the whole stock of all that they possess, and in case one of them dies, the other inherits all his property, his share of the loot, and the compensation due for loss of life and limb,” Steve explained, nursing his drink as he watched Tony with an unreadable expression.

“That’s the most pragmatic reduction of a marriage,” Tony protested, downing his wine in one final gulp to gather all the liquid courage he required.

“Not really. It is often, if not always, a sexual partnership as well; sometimes, it’s even loving and romantic; on rare occasions, monogamous. Mates seek comfort and companionship in each other. They also pair up to fight and work together. That is more than what you can say for most marriages,” Steve replied so casually as if they were discussing the weather and not something that was earth-shattering news to Tony.

“What?” Tony blurted. “You have men openly fucking on pirate crews and no one blinks an eye?”

“Not openly,” Steve replied. “No one likes to have others’ happiness shoved in their face. As long as it doesn’t interfere with their duties and doesn’t disrupt the crew’s peace with jealousy and in-fighting, everyone minds their business. Why do you think men would choose to become outcasts from the world of regular folks if they didn’t have something better to gain? Do you think all men at sea keep whining and yearning for women throughout their voyages? That people living in close quarters for months at end never even consider seeking intimacy among each other? What you said earlier…never mind,” he said, turning away in anger and disappointment.

“What? Did I do something to upset you?” Tony asked, reaching out to grasp his hand, coaxing Steve to look at him with a gentle squeeze upon his hand.

“I thought you were different,” Steve said, shaking his head. “I didn’t expect you to be so judgmental.”

“Judgmental?” Tony asked in shock. “Far from it. You merely took me by surprise. I never thought it possible to live so freely.”

“Piracy is freedom,” Steve shrugged.

Tony let go of the hand he only now realized he was holding onto for dear life and asked, “Do you have any mates on your crew?”

“A few. You even met a pair,” Steve replied. “Sam and Bucky are bound by matelotage, which is why Bucky moved to their crew.”

“Oh,” Tony said disappointed. “There’s must be the pragmatic kind.”

Steve scoffed. “Oh, they definitely fuck if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“But they seem to hate each other,” Tony said.

“They don’t hate each other,” Steve defended them. “They simply can’t stand each other for more than five minutes, unless they are fucking, that is, you do not want to be around them then.”

“How would a partnership like that even work?” Tony asked.

“Aren’t most marriages like that?” Steve shot back. “You’ve asked me a lot of questions tonight. Let me ask you one,” he said, inching towards Tony with a predatory prowl until Tony was almost backed into the wall next to the fireplace.

“Go ahead,” Tony asked in a small voice.

“You invited me here to wine and dine me, tell inappropriate jokes about soup, and ask my life story. Was this all a ploy to seduce me?” Steve asked, trapping Tony in place with his hand upon the wall. Given Steve’s confessions and life experience, Tony had been lulled into a sense of security, but now, he feared he would get his teeth kicked in if he told the truth.

“No,” Tony said in a small and fearful voice.

“No?” Steve echoed, stunned, and taken aback by it.

“Yes,” Tony whispered, clinging to a bit of hope as he saw the same fear of hurt and rejection reflected in Steve’s eyes.

“Yes?” Steve asked, withdrawing from him. “No or yes, which one is it?”

“Depends,” Tony replied. “How do you feel about it?”

“How do I feel about it? I have been trying to seduce you since the moment we met,” Steve confessed. “How do you think I feel about it?”

“You what,” Tony asked with his mouth hanging open in shock.

Steve closed the distance between them and shut it right up with a searing kiss upon his lips. After a moment of shock and exhilaration, Tony regained control of his mind and body and returned the kiss with everything he had in him. As Tony gathered the courage to slide down his hands to Steve’s glorious chest, Steve seized him, one hand buried in Tony’s hair, tugging at it hard, and another shamelessly kneading one of his butt cheeks as he deepened the kiss with his tongue plundering Tony’s mouth. Tony let his head fall back to the wall, letting Steve have his way with him, reveling in the beautiful sensation of being pinned down and taken as he had always wanted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cut the chapter at the makeout because it the chapter was running too long and I didn't want to cut the smut short. It's their first time after all. Thanks to the comments of Lottie, chloestar05, and Caeden, I was able to push through this long ass chapter in one day. Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	7. Home In Your Arms

Tony let his hands roam freely over Steve’s hard chest, back, and arms, sliding a hand inside his shirt every now and then to grab his big round pecs that the man so vainly flexed every single time. When he though to pinch a nipple to tease, Steve moaned into his mouth. Oh, what a beautiful melody. No music could ever match its glory for the sound went straight to Tony’s cock, having it jump in attention, even though he had rubbed one out before dinner, and at his age, this sort of thing rarely happened twice in a night without the assistance of a helpful hand or mouth. He had nothing to be ashamed of as Steve instantly rubbed his own cock, also hard in his pants, against his erection to assure him he was just as affected by him. Suddenly, without warning, Steve swept him off his feet. Tony let out a little yelp at the realization his feet no longer touched the ground but were being wrapped around his pirate’s waist.

“Put me down at once,” Tony demanded, wrapping his arms Steve for balance. He heard a whine. “I think my dogs are worried about your plans for me,” he said, turning to where his dogs sat in their baskets looking up at them.

“Then, I will put you down in your bed, at once, where your dogs wouldn’t have to witness what I have planned for you,” Steve said with that cocky little smile he had grown accustomed to by now.

“What have you planned for me, you damned pirate,” Tony teased, making a show of being a damsel in distress as Steve carried him upstairs with such ease like he was but a babe who weighed close to nothing.

“Something so wicked and merciless you might walk with a limp until you recover from it,” Steve said with a little wink.

“Oh no have mercy,” Tony laughed.

“Wow, this room looks so different now that you’ve occupied it,” Steve said, putting him down, shutting the bedroom door with his foot, and working at undoing the belt holding up Tony’s breeches.

“Did Jarvis make you sleep upon dusty covers when you wintered here?” Tony asked, tugging at Steve’s shirt, where it was stuffed into his pants, to have free rein over the man’s abs as well.

“No, I made my own bed with some of the plainer beddings he offered, and I didn’t bother with anything else, but now, it looks splendid, just like you,” Steve said with a sweet smile and a peck upon his lips, which for some reason felt far more intimate than the all the lustful things they had indulged in so far.

Tony looked at him, stunned for a moment.

“What?” Steve asked, plucking him from their little bubble of tenderness by pulling down Tony’s breeches with a sudden yank. “Look at you all eager and standing in attention for your captain,” he said, palming his cock a bit too roughly.

“You simply can’t be gentle for more than a fraction of a moment, can you?” Tony asked, slapping his arm and pretending to be cross with him.

“Umm, no,” Steve teased with a sharp slap upon Tony’s bum. “Would you look at that,” he added, slapping the butt cheek still stinging from the previous blow, once again, but even harder this time, “These globular little buttocks of yours are far more grabbable and slappable than I had anticipated. Your breeches don’t do justice to them.” With another sharp slap, he whispered into his ear, sounding truly delighted, “Look how they jiggle from every spank.”

Tony cried out but his cock merely twitched and leaked in Steve’s palm. “You wretched brute, let me give you a taste of your medicine,” Tony said, spanking Steve’s ass as well.

“Oh you dare,” Steve said, doing his best to sound domineering but his inability to conceal his laughter didn’t help his case.

“What are you going to do about it?” Tony giggled as he laid another slap on the pirate’s bum. An ungodly shriek escaped his throat as Steve suddenly hauled Tony over his shoulder, and carried him to bed, laying a few more soft spanks before tossing him upon the feather bed like a sack of potatoes, and climbing on top of him.

“I can be gentle for longer than a fraction of a moment,” Steve murmured between soft kisses he burned upon Tony’s neck, his cheeks, and his lips. He looked down at him with an unreadable look. Tony searched his eyes to figure out what it meant. Steve only dived back in; this time sealing their lips in a hungry kiss as he once against dug a fist into the brunette’s long curls and squeezed his aching butt cheek with the other hand, holding onto his lover’s yielding form with all his strength and an urgent need as he began to grind his erection against Tony’s exposed cock. An intrusive finger slowing began brushing over his butthole every now and then, until it began circling it more boldly, with promises of more.

Tony moaned into Steve’s mouth most wantonly.

Then the finger plunged into his hole without warning.

Tony cried.

Steve broke the kiss to search their surroundings for something when his lips stretched in a devilish little smile.

“You’ve come prepared,” Steve said, fingering him all the while as he jerked his head in the direction of the nightstand, atop which sat a bottle of olive oil.

“Wh-what,” Tony mumbled speechless as Steve toyed with something so raw and sensitive within him. “Where did that come from?”

“Oh, don’t play the blushing maiden,” Steve teased. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Tony glared at him. “You might think me a womanizer, Captain, but this is still my first time with a man”—he pouted— “And what a brutish beast I have chosen to break me in.”

“Oh, really,” Steve asked, bemused, “how do you even know what cum tastes like if that were true?”

“I’m not entirely ignorant,” Tony confessed, “but no one ever dared to pull down my breeches as you just did.”

“Why?” Steve asked, sounding frankly offended on behalf of the buttocks he now fingered with newfound fervor. “Wait… Are you saying I’m supposed to play the role of the more experienced and knowing one among us?” he asked, wiggling his brows like the little shit that he was before he dropped another tender kiss.

“I-I think…” Tony moaned.

“Oh, you can still think?” Steve asked. “Then I’m not doing my job well.”

Tony slapped his arm. “I think Jarvis left it because it wasn’t here when I was getting ready for dinner.”

“Yeah, blame the butler,” Steve scoffed as he withdrew the hand cupping the back of Tony’s head and ran his fingers leisurely through Tony’s hair, the lace upon his shirt’s throat, and the intricate embroidery of his coat. “Getting ready for me, you mean.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Tony whined as Steve pulled out the finger from his ass in retaliation, leaving him so empty, and incomplete, and so utterly desolate.

“Accept it,” Steve said. He climbed out of bed leaving Tony’s cock exposed to the cool breeze blowing in through the window and watched him with piercing scrutiny as he stood at the foot of the bed.

“Get back here,” Tony ordered.

Steve only walked further away. It was only when he grabbed the bottle of olive oil that Tony felt assured that he wasn’t planning on leaving him high and dry after all. 

“Say it,” Steve ordered in his captain’s voice. “Tell me you made yourself beautiful for me, to impress me, to seduce me.”

Oh, so this is how Steve wanted to play it, huh? He rolled over and got on his hands and knees with catlike grace, and lazily swayed his buttocks, which were his lover’s new weakness, buttocks that must be red from all the spanks they received. Tony looked back with a feigned look of innocence. “Oh, is that what you want me to tell you, Captain, that I put all my treasures out on display for you?” he teased, throwing the pirate’s words from earlier tonight right back at him.

 _Smack_.

Steve laid another spank upon his ass. “Tease and you receive a spank as punishment. Plead and you receive my fingers as reward.”

“What makes you think I even want your fingers?” Tony asked, pulling up the back of his coat to fully expose his buttocks.

 _Smack_.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

 _Smack_.

“I always assumed you had more strength than—”

 _Smack. Smack._ Steve spanked both his butt cheeks hard enough to leave them burning with pain. Oh, what sweet pain it was. “Ah, oh god, yes, Steve, yes….”

It must have pleased him for he opened the bottle of oil and rubbed his oiled up fingers over his gaping hole before shoving both inside. At first, Tony thought this was punishment. But then, Steve ran a gentle and caring hand over one of his butt cheeks and laid a kiss upon it as he muttered, “You little tease. I would play along with your little game if my dick wasn’t dying to get inside you.” He only just adjusted to two fingers, when a third came invading, leaving him moaning and whining as his neglected cock twitched and leaked profusely, thoroughly confused about all these new pleasures inflicted upon it.

“I’m ready, Steve, I think I’m ready to take you,” Tony declared, inhaling a sharp breath to gather the courage for what’s to come. He heard Steve shuffling down his pants a bit and turned back to catch a glimpse of his cock. Oh yes. Oh no. “On second thought, I believe you must open me up some more for that monstrosity.”

“You flatter me,” Steve replied, making his best attempt at modesty through all that vanity and cockiness.

“That was not my intention,” Tony clarified. “I’m as terrified as a virgin on her wedding night.”

“All right, I’ll delay my pleasure for you, my blushing bride,” Steve mocked as he jammed the fourth finger and then a thumb to open him up.

Tony lost his mind so much in the sensation of being filled up that his brain came to an abrupt halt when Steve withdrew his fingers. The feeling of loss only lasted a moment before Steve positioned the tip of his dick upon Tony’s loosened hole, firmly grasped Tony’s hips with both hands, and asked, “Any last words, my lord?”

“Oh, just fuck me for heavens—” Tony yelled and would remember to be careful what he wished for as the monstrosity penetrated him in its entirety. With a loud cry, Tony fell forward, struggling to at least get up on his elbows as the ruthless pirate pounded into him as mercilessly as he promised he would.

“Heavens, indeed,” Steve bemoaned. “My god, you are still so tight. I have surely entered the kingdom of heaven and I’m afraid I wouldn’t last long.”

Tony was rendered far too speechless and scatter-brained to understand anything at this point. He simply mumbled a nonsensical response in between swears, oaths, and cries of pleasure. He didn’t know what the monstrosity massaged within him but he had never experienced such pure unadulterated pleasure in his life. He was so close. So close. Yes. Just a few more minutes and he would have his release.

With a loud grunt, Steve came inside him.

Tony let out a loud whine. Oh, why did he have to jerk off before dinner? At his age, his cock rarely rose a second time, and when it did pleasure took its own sweet time evading him. He buried his face into the mattress in frustration for getting so close, almost at the edge, before his release slipped right through his fingers. If only he hadn’t been fucked so senseless, he would have thought of jerking himself off through Steve’s final thrusts, but alas, he had lost complete control over his mental faculties. He rolled onto his back and thought of finishing it off now.

“Don’t you dare,” Steve warned as he fell upon the bed beside him. “I have wanted to fuck you for far too long to leave you to rub one off in disappointment now.”

“Then what do you plan on doing about this?” Tony asked, standing up on his knees and pointing at his raging erection.

Steve drew out his tongue to give his dick one long lick before he kissed the head of his cock and said, “Take off your breeches.”

He obliged. As Steve lay in bed, palming his soft cock, Tony climbed out of bed, took a few steps back as he shrugged off his coat, and tossed it upon an armchair. He took his sweet time flicking open the buttons of his vest with the disconcerted look of someone who wasn’t even aware of the presence of another in the room. He had to bite his lip to hide his mischief as he toed off his shoes next. The pirate drank him in underneath the scrutiny of his heated gaze. Tony pulled down his breeches and underpants next, stepping out of them and making a show of turning around and bending over to pick them up to be set aside with the rest of the set, only he didn’t anticipate the embarrassment of Steve’s cum leaking out and dripping down his thighs. He turned back with a mortified smile.

Steve only scooted over to the edge of the bed to stretch open Tony’s butt cheeks, watching in fascination as more cum came oozing out. With a disbelieving shake of his head, Tony turned away, set aside his clothes, and dug a finger into his stocking next.

“No,” Steve ordered in a thick and heavy voice. “Keep them on and put your shoes back on.”

“Why?” Tony asked, putting a hand over his hip as he turned around to face the man. “Am I not good enough for you at my natural height?”

“You’re perfect, darling, but I wish to fuck you in those wanton red heels of yours,” Steve said with that annoying cocky little smile again.

“They aren’t wanton, they are tall and dignified,” Tony protested.

Steve stood up and towered over him like a threatening storm. “Put on the shoes.”

Tony put them, not because he was ordered to but because he once against wished to stand as tall as the scoundrel, who began circling him like a damn vulture, clearly pleased with what he saw, and when Tony turned to face him once again, he was so rudely pushed back onto the bed. He glared at the pirate. Steve simply responded by playing to Tony’s weakness and pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it aside, and leaving his glorious torso bare. He kicked off his boots and pulled down his pants. As Tony watched him in all his naked glory, reminded of what he had only caught a glimpse of in the bathhouse, he was shocked to discover that Steve was once again hard for him.

“Like what you see?” Steve teased.

Tony looked away with an amused shake of his head.

Steve grasped both his ankles all of a sudden and dragged him to the edge of the bed. Tony swore in surprise but his cock wished to burst with desire. He had slept with so many over the years but never had he felt so…overpowered. It did something for the part of him that he hid like a dirty secret. That Tony lived for this. He came alive tonight. All his secret cravings satiated as his ankles were drawn up and parted as far as they stretched and Steve plunged his cock into his eagerly waiting and yearning hole. Tony let out a sharp cry and his fingers grasped for the sheets. There was something about this position that hit that raging bundle of nerves just right.

“Do you like it?” Steve asked.

“Yes, oh god, yes, Steve,” Tony begged. “It feels so…so good. Oh god.”

Steve pounded into him so hard that both of them slowly slid up on the silk sheets. Steve didn’t yank him back. Instead, he let Tony’s legs rest upon his shoulder and leaned down to capture his lips once again. Ah, even better. His insides burned with a new passion in this position.

“Steve. Steve, oh, Steve,” Tony gasped. “Please, I, please…”

“What do you want, Tony? Tell me,” Steve asked with such desperation like he would steal stars from the night sky to please his lover right now.

“Choke me,” Tony asked. Where had that come from? He didn’t know. But his mind and body had lost all sense of inhibition and shame and had embraced an ‘in for a penny in for a pound’ ideology tonight.

“What?” Steve asked, truly perplexed.

“Choke me,” Tony commanded this time.

With much hesitation, Steve curled his fingers over the lace at his throat and obliged with a sad excuse for choking.

“Harder,” Tony yelled.

Steve kissed at the top of his neck and whispered, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re really hurting my feelings right now,” Tony said as his lover’s thrusts kept growing slower and gentler the more this discussion carried on.

“Better your feelings than your windpipe,” Steve argued, suddenly withdrawing his dick almost all the way out and shoving it back in with all his might.

“Harder,” Tony cried out in a sudden passion now that he felt the buildup for his release, only the previous one, abandoned at the very edge returned with a vengeance demanding satisfaction as well. He couldn’t take it. He was simply too worked up and this new torturously slow pace of their lovemaking was slowly driving him to insanity.

Steve’s fingers dug deeper into the side of Tony’s neck, still careful around his throat, as he grumbled, “Happy now, my lord?”

“Almost,” Tony said, letting one overstretched leg slide from where it rested against his lover’s shoulder to the crook of his arm.

Steve pushed them further up the bed, as they swayed, matching thrust for thrust in a slow and sensual rhythm, peppering soft and loving kisses upon his lips. Tony held onto the hard muscles on his lover’s back for dear life. Ah, he wished for this to last forever. But, oh, how he wished for the blissful end too. Only when Tony accepted his fate of remaining trapped in this torturous limbo and decided to tease his heartless lover by playing with his bountiful chest like a woman’s breasts, did the pirate grab his hands and pin them over his head, intertwining their fingers within the lace drooping from the sleeves of his shirt. He was an unforgiving rogue then. Tony received a thorough pounding in punishment for his transgression.

Tony had a déjà vu of his first night here when he masturbated to a similar fantasy. His body went taut. Then, it began to spasm like a demonic possession. An ecstasy, the likes of which he had never experienced, surged through his entire body as he came with a worshipping chant of his lover’s name upon his lips. Steve didn’t stop. He kept going, chasing his own release. The quivering and trembling of his limbs didn’t end until that happened. He was so raw and sensitive. Tony kept jerking up in Steve’s arms as he whispered sweet nothing into his ear.

When Steve came, at last, there was a proud smile on his face. Steve didn’t pull out his dick but let it soften inside and kept kissing Tony all the while, and it was that act of post-coital affection, which made him feel so thoroughly fucked and desired.

Steve helped remove the shirt which was stained now. Though, he had the good sense not to use it to wipe them down. Instead, he dug up a towel from the nightstand for that. Tony couldn’t move at all through the entire ordeal. With a loving smile, Steve lay down upon the pillows and gathered Tony up in his arms, and began to toy with the ruby ring, the only thing Tony was left wearing. As the sheer curtains hanging upon the windows swayed in the gentle breeze and the fire crackled in the hearth, Tony squeezed his eyes shut and snuggled into his lover’s chest. Steve had other plans though.

“My cock would not rise for the third time, Steve,” Tony sighed as Steve’s hands kept roaming and exploring his naked body with no intention of falling asleep anytime soon.

“Third,” Steve asked.

Tony met his gaze and realized how futile it was to hold onto shame after all they had done. “I relieved myself before dinner once.”

Steve raised a sly brow. “Was it in anticipation or merely a preventive measure to avoid awkwardness?”

“A bit of both,” Tony confessed.

“Oh, Tony, I will get you hard again, don’t you worry about that,” Steve teased, pulling Tony on top of him and grabbing his buttocks. “No matter how long it takes. No matter what I have to do. There’s no way I’m not fucking you again after that confession.”

Steve kept his word. It took over an hour of rolling around in bed, kissing every inch of their bodies, and sucking each other off, during which time the insatiable pirate came into his mouth once again, yet somehow, he still rose to the occasion when Tony’s half-hard dick awakened in the warmth of the man’s insistent mouth. He submitted to anything and everything and let Steve have him however he pleased, and then, blacked out unconscious the instant his third orgasm of the night hit him.

When he next regained consciousness, the sun was up in the clear blue sky and its rays warmed his sore and aching behind as he lay on his stomach sprawled out naked upon in bed. The smell of burning tobacco wafted into the room with the light breeze. He looked up to find Steve sitting naked in an armchair by the window, smoking his pipe, and doodling something on a piece of paper. He had a book resting over his lap that he used a surface to draw. It was that same book of poetry that Tony had discovered in his nightstand.

“What are you drawing?” Tony asked, stretching luxuriously.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Steve said with a big dopey smile. “Here, I finally finished my sketch of you.” Steve handed him the half-finished sketch Tony had found tucked inside his book, which was a replica of his portrait hanging on the wall, only faceless, except for his eyes which appeared far too large at the time. Now, they were encircled by wrinkles. Tony looked from the sketch to the portrait in deafening silence. It was the same face but older and with all youthful illusions lost.

“Would you like something to eat?” Steve asked, pointing at the breakfast lying on the table. “Jarvis left it so discreetly outside our door with a knock and a not so subtle announcement of his departure.”

“Umm…just coffee,” Tony replied as he sat up and winced from his aching bottom.

Steve poured him a cup of coffee and mused, “Huh, seems like I did stay over until breakfast as you suggested in jest.”

Tony didn’t reply. He simply accepted the cup of coffee offered to him, still staring at the sketch in shock.

“Do you want this as well?” Steve offered a cushion, gesturing for him to tuck it under his ass.

Tony slapped it away. “Don’t be so cocky,” he scolded, “I now know enough of lovemaking among men to soon exact my revenge upon you.”

“Can’t wait,” Steve said with a devilish little smirk.

Tony gulped down the rest of his coffee and commented on the sketch at last. “It is not very flattering.”

“That was not my intention,” Steve replied.

“You have made me appear older.”

Steve tilted his head as he smoked his pipe.

“Far older than I am,” Tony said, running a hand over his face, wondering if he truly had grown so old.

“Possibly,” Steve replied with an amused smile.

“I can see all the effort you have put into the details but…” Tony began, thinking of a diplomatic way to appreciate the artist efforts despite how it laid all his insecurities bare. Instead, he allowed himself to be vulnerable. “Why did you draw me like this?”

“You’re so vain,” Steve said with an amused shake of his head as he set aside his pipe, closed the distance between them, and climbed into bed. “I couldn’t finish it before because I knew this portrait was painted a long time ago and I could never imagine the man you must have grown into since then. Now that I have seen you and I have made love to you, I felt more qualified to capture your likeness.”

“But did you have to capture every single detail?” Tony asked, handing it back to him. “Every aging line. Every wrinkle.”

“It’s all a part of who you are now,” Steve said with a tender kiss that landed upon his cheek when he turned from him in displeasure. Logically, he knew Steve had exerted all his skills as an artist to draw the most accurate likeness of him; still, he couldn’t help but be cross with him for not smoothing out some of it to please his sensibilities.

“Do you want something drawn in hurry, with little to no details, that makes you appear positively angelic?” Steve asked, trying to pull him into a hug.

“Don’t patronize me,” Tony replied, pushing him away.

Steve simply held up the flip side of the paper with another little sketch. This one was of Tony sound asleep upon the bed, wearing nothing but his ruby ring, and to his great pleasure, his cruel lover hadn’t added any brutally honest details to it.

“This is lovely,” Tony said, snatching it from him and pulling it close to his heart. “I will preserve this forever. Wait…” he said, scrutinizing it, “am I drooling?”

“Good lord,” Steve sighed, wrestling him upon his back and climbing on top of him. “You’re impossible!”

Tony pouted.

Steve kissed the pout. “Ah, look who else is up,” he said, grabbing Tony’s morning wood.

“No, you’re impossible,” Tony sighed, turning to his side, leaving Steve to cuddle him from behind. He didn’t just cuddle. The insatiable bastard was spooning into him soon enough. There was a wild and untamed intimacy to it that tore his heart asunder. He nuzzled into Steve, wanting to get even closer. The leg that was pulled over his lover’s hip, Tony stroked its foot against Steve’s legs to feel even closer to him. Steve pumped Tony’s cock but he didn’t care for his release. And when they came, Steve had another fresh load to pump into him, while Tony only let out some clear discharge. He was tapped out. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. The only thing that did matter was this warmth and safety that he felt in his lover’s arms, a feeling so new and yet so ancient, that made him feel at home for the first in this house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	8. Tallest Tree

The air was stifling inside Hammer’s house as he commanded all windows remain shut and his wife take bed rest throughout her delicate _condition_. All the curtains were drawn as well to screen her from sunlight. Tony couldn’t make sense of how a woman could successfully create life in an environment designed to suck all life out of anyone who spent even a moment here. Hammer claimed bright lights or strong winds might fatigue her. But lying on a sofa, backed with cushions in a dark stuffy room eating cake and making small talk with her neighbors wouldn’t? Tony was already fatigued, even though he didn’t share her burden of carrying a child, not for a lack of trying on Steve’s behalf, who had been toiling and laboring hard every single night for the last month to put one in him. Tony laughed to himself at the thought.

Hammer thought he had laughed at whatever he was going on about. Never again. Never again would Tony be persuaded to meet his neighbors. Tony simply shoved a piece of cake in his mouth so he wouldn’t have to go along with Hammer’s little joke which he neither understood nor found amusing, but horror upon horror, his host only took it as an invitation to pile on two more slices upon his plate, and he was left with no choice but to flash a false smile and say thanks before placing another spoonful between his lips.

“We should do this more often,” Hammer said. We most certainly should not! Tony looked about the room, at the fifteen weary faces, sick and tired of each other’s company, now watching him in apathetic interest, hoping he would change his stance on arming them to hunt his lover. Their wives watched him with a different sort of interest as they questioned him about his life in the city. Once, he might have used it as an opportunity to boast and flirt, but he simply could not anymore, and instead, told them of his preference and love for the countryside.

“It’s a pity your estate is so isolated,” said a lady, “and I hear, it’s also gated now.”

“Safety measures,” Tony said with his most charming smile. “I commenced work on my gate the instant Lord Hammer left my property after offering warning of pirates and robbers.”

“But don’t you find it wretchedly lonely to live alone in a great house after your life in London? If only we all lived nearer to you and visited often,” another woman mused.

“Sadly, the road to my house is terrible,” Tony said politely. “I had great difficulty getting here today. And I don’t feel lonely at all, since I’m most devoted to my inventions and my dogs and they absorb nearly all my time.”

“Working on any new weapons?” Lord Hammer asked hopefully.

“Farming equipment,” Tony replied to shut it down immediately.

“You show remarkable courage living there all alone,” declared her ladyship. “I become uneasy when my husband is away even for a few hours.”

Tony simply nodded. He was afraid he might laugh or say something sarcastic if he opened his mouth for the thought of Lady Hammer aching for her lord’s swift arrival was most amusing.

“Are you well protected?” Hammer asked. “I was thinking of stationing a couple of my men on your property for surveillance.”

“I assure you it would be entirely unnecessary,” Tony said at once because there was no way in hell he would allow Hammer’s spies to roam his grounds.

“So you may think. Some of us believe differently,” Hammer said, looking to a man standing across the room from them.

Aldrich Killian, a land-owner with a large estate furthest inland, now came forward and asked with the intense and agitated voice of a fire breathing dragon, “Has Hammer told you how we are menaced from the sea?”

“By the elusive Irishman,” Tony said, playing the innocent.

“Who wouldn’t remain so elusive for long,” Killian declared.

“Have you summoned more soldiers?” Tony asked, raising a brow.

Killian turned to Hammer in irritation. “This time there will be no question of hired mercenaries,” he said in that intense and imposing way of his. “I was against that idea from the first, but as usual was overruled. No, I propose we deal with the foreigner ourselves.”

“Providing enough of us join together,” Hammer said dryly.

“And the most capable among us take the lead,” Killian said. There was a pause, Hammer and Killian eyeing each other to determine who it would be. My, my, had the atmosphere become suddenly strained? Tony fanned himself.

“A house divided against itself will not stand,” Tony murmured.

“I beg your pardon?” Killian asked. Keep begging, Tony thought, he would still not join or arm these fools.

“I was suddenly reminded of the line from scriptures,” Tony clarified. “But you were talking about the pirate. What is your plan to capture him?”

“It is yet to be hatched,” Killian replied. “We suspect some of the townspeople to be in his pay.”

“You astound me,” Tony replied. Of course, he knew all of Steve’s accomplices and his spies in the town. Hawkeye and Natasha rented a house in town as a newlywed come here seeking employment. Bruce was the town’s apothecary, who often visited Tony for tea and shared his vast pool of knowledge about plants and their medicinal properties. Strange, instead of leveraging his skills as a surgeon, put on magic shows for the children’s entertainment in the town square. Thor worked on the docks, gathering information from sailors in and out of the harbor. Even Wanda took the mantle of a fortune teller passing through the town, something Tony considered a dangerous gamble, but instead of stroking suspicion, it gained her entrance to every household great and small in the countryside.

“If our suspicions are verified, they will all be hanged along with him,” Killian said, putting the horrifying image in Tony’s mind without warning. “We suspect he also has a hiding place along the coast that some of the inhabitants know of but are holding their tongues.”

“Have you not made a thorough search?”

“Lord Stark, we are forever combing the district,” Hammer replied, “But the fellow is slippery as an eel like all Irishmen are and he appears to know our coast better than us. Have you observed anything suspicious around your estate?”

“Nothing whatsoever,” Tony replied.

“The manor commands a view of the sea, does it not?” Killian asked.

“The most excellent view,” Tony answered like he really was as stupid as they believed him to be…just another foolish man from London who knew nothing of countryside except for its romantic notions that brought him here.

“I don’t wish to alarm you but you must stay vigilant of strange crafts venturing by your cliff,” Killian warned him. “Among us, your house is closest to the sea.”

“You terrify me,” Tony said, clutching his chest.

“That Irishman is quite scrupulous and his men most savage,” Killian doubled down on his supposed terror.

“I even heard,” Hammer said in a low conspiring voice, “That there’s a cannibal among them who goes by the name of Falcon.”

Tony choked on his tea.

Lady Hammer gave a shriek of horror and began fanning herself rapidly before her husband assured her she was perfectly safe in her dark and dreary solitary confinement.

Tony stood up to take his leave the instant he heard his carriage return from all the errands Jarvis had to run in town while he wasted away his morning here. “I will heed to all your warnings, and with neighbors like you, I feel so secure that no one could harm me or my household. You’re both so stalwart,” he said to Hammer and Killian, making sure to school his expression to ensure the insult lands as a compliment, “So very English in your ways.”

“Don’t worry, my lord,” Killian said with a determined smirk. “I plan on hanging that pirate by the tallest tree in Hammer’s park soon enough and I invite the company present here today to attend the ceremony.”

“Sir, you are very bloodthirsty,” Tony said, cringing at the thought.

“So would you be,” Killian said, “If you had been robbed of your possessions: wine, silver, plate, jewels, all of considerable value.”

“No, I would simply take joy in replacing them,” Tony said because he didn’t know one rich man who didn’t love spending money on consistently making his house more grand and Steve’s life was far too precious compared to silly trinkets.

“I fear I consider the matter in a very different light,” Killian grumbled in annoyance.

Hammer accompanied him to his carriage and said, “Your remark was somewhat unfortunate. Killian cares quite deeply about his money.”

“I am notorious for making unfortunate remarks,” Tony replied, boarding his carriage.

“Maybe in London people understood you,” Hammer began.

“I think not,” Tony interrupted. “That was one of the reasons I left London.”

“Anthony, I believe you don’t grasp the severity of the situation,” Hammer chastised him. “Only when you come face to face with a pirate, I dare say, will you shiver and swoon like the rest of us.”

“I never claimed I wouldn’t swoon,” Tony replied, banging the roof of the carriage to gesture to the coachman that it was time to leave.

The carriage sped down the long avenue, past the peacocks roaming the smooth lawns and the deer in the park, and cut on to the highway. Tony tossed aside his hat and glanced up at Jarvis who sat opposite him with a stiff back and a dignified demeanor.

“Jarvis, I have behaved very badly.”

“So I gathered, sir.”

“It was exceedingly hot inside and the lady had all the windows shut and I found none of the company to my taste.”

“Very tying, sir.”

“There was this man, Aldrich Killian, whom I didn’t like at all. These people are beginning to wake up. There was much talk of piracy,” Tony shared his anxieties.

“I overheard his lordship just now, sir.”

“Talk of capture and hangings from tall trees,” Tony said, nervously fiddling with the hat he had cast aside.

“It was only a matter of time, sir.”

“Do you think Steve is aware of the danger he is in?” Tony asked.

Jarvis nodded.

“And yet, he continues to stay here for so long.”

“Yes, sir.”

“He has been here for over a month. Does he always stay so long?”

“No, sir.”

“How long does he usually stay?”

“Less than a week, sir,” Jarvis replied to his absolute surprise.

“Maybe he too has lost track of time,” Tony said to himself. They had both been so preoccupied with the sneaking around after dismissing the servants early in the evenings—to their great pleasure—so Tony could take a candle down to the wine cellar and call him up to sup with him, and Steve would spend the night with him in the bed they shared and leave precisely at sunrise every morning. Tony spent most of his days in his workshop to keep the yearning at bay. While, Steve spent his days fishing, hiking, and playing with the paints and canvases Tony had ordered for him from London. His cruel lover wished to paint an updated portrait of him with all the evidence of his aging, but Tony refused, saying he already had one portrait of himself, and instead, commissioned a self-portrait of the artist because beauty such as his deserved to be preserved forever in both Tony’s heart and his house. Steve wasn’t thrilled. But he was slogging through it, even though he never struggled to find inspiration for sketching nudes of Tony sprawled out in the most obscene positions and took great pleasure in making him pose for them. He was also experimenting with landscapes during his hikes. Anything but the self-portrait Tony so desperately wished to possess.

Upon their arrival back home, Tony handed his hat, coat, and vest to the butler and went straight to his workshop. He had enough human interaction for the day and it had left him bitter and sour, especially all the talk of hanging Steve. No. He simply wouldn’t dwell upon it. He had plans to draw up machines to tinker with. This was the next best thing that came out of his move to Cornwall, for all those annoying talks with the land-owners and mentions of their upstart friends and relatives, who owned plantations in America, gave him a unique perspective into the mind of people who made up the target demographic for the slave trade. Sure, most of it was scatter-brained nonsense like those claims of Sam being a cannibal today. Tony still meditated upon how someone so prejudiced, self-centered, and far removed from the world could be swayed to care about the sufferings of others. He came to the conclusion that they can’t. It is near impossible to appeal to most people’s decency and compassion. The answer was always money. It was the only tool fit to steer people’s actions in any desired direction. That was especially true for the rich.

So he began roaming the fields and studying the farmers who tilled these lands, watching what they did, and inquiring about their greatest troubles and desires. Some even had brilliant ideas to offer. Tony realized that he had tried throwing money at the greatest trouble which plagued his heart and he had joined a company of pirates to approach it by force, but he hadn’t yet exerted his greatest asset—his imagination—which is what made him successful in the first place.

“You’re quite the artist yourself. What are you drawing up?” Steve asked, sneaking up behind up and gathering up the designs he had been working on.

“You walk very silently,” Tony said, glaring at his dogs, playing outside the workshop. They had stopped warning him of the pirate’s presence a long time ago.

“A habit of long practice,” Steve replied, still admiring the designs. “What is this supposed to be?”

“I’m working on designing farm equipment capable of automation and replacing most labor that is done by hand,” Tony replied.

“You will put all the farmers out of business,” Steve teased.

“I don’t think so,” Tony said. “As long as people need food to survive, farmers will never go out -of business.” He snatched away the designs from him and drew him to a more private corner of the workshop away from the windows. “What are you even doing here in daylight?”

“Jarvis sent word that you were worried sick about me,” Steve said like the cocky little shit he had grown so fond of somehow.

“I wasn’t”—Tony pinched the bridge of his nose—“I wasn’t worried sick. He exaggerates. I don’t wish to speak of it. I’m trying to forget this morning ever happened.”

Steve sat down upon a high stool and drew Tony into his lap. “Then let’s talk of your sudden interest in farming.”

“It’s not sudden,” Tony said, nuzzling into his lover’s chest to find the comfort he craved and toyed with the fabric of Steve’s shirt with the nervous energy still buzzing through his body. “It’s simply another facet of my reasons for giving away my fortune and joining a company of pirates. Their leader is quite the brute, I hear,” he said as the man distracted him with sweet kisses upon his neck.

“You should definitely stop inviting him to your bed every night then,” Steve said in between kisses.

Tony laughed, climbing out of his lap with a tender kiss upon his cheek and laying out his designs upon the table. “I thought to myself…what would be the most effective method of dissuading land-owners from purchasing slaves and hence destroying the trade root and stem? It’s not enough to support Rhodey in freeing as many local slaves he can and pointing you in the direction of slave ships to rescue. As long as there is demand, more ships would come and more slaves would take the place of the ones freed.”

“Only a collective evolution of human conscience could destroy such oppression once and for all,” Steve observed.

“Or make slavery a less profitable compared to more humane options,” Tony suggested, drawing Steve’s attention to his designs. “I know it sounds horrible and pragmatic, but there is nothing that could convince land-owners to change their ways faster than the prospect of improving their profit margins.”

“And how do you plan on accomplishing that with these designs?” Steve asked, more confused than ever.

“I was hoping if I could invent machines capable of automating most of the work done by hand in the fields, and sold them at a lower cost than what they are willing to spend on a slave, then they simply might start buying machines instead,” Tony suggested, far more unsure of his idea now that he had said it out loud to someone.

“That just might work for most,” Steve said, running a hand through his beard in careful contemplation as if could think of it in terms of people even if he couldn’t make sense of the designs.

“Why just most,” Tony asked because it was his keen insights that made their talks so stimulating.

“Some folks are far too regressive to give up the status quo even when logic dictates they forgo their cruelty. They would choose to bleed simply to stain the clothes of someone they despise. Not everyone can be reasoned with,” Steve concluded.

“Well, then there’s a good thing people like you exist to knock some sense into them the hard way,” Tony said, suddenly reminded of the picture of his lover’s future that Killian had so cruelly and vividly painted for him.

“What are you thinking about?” Steve asked, brushing a thumb over his cheek.

“We should leave this place for a while. They are beginning to suspect that something is amiss,” Tony confessed before his voice betrayed him and cracked with fear and gloom. “They were gloating about their plans of capturing you and…”

“That does not worry me,” Steve said in his captain’s voice.

“I wasn’t worried either when I had only met Hammer, but there is something very hard, obstinate, and driven about Killian. He is not a pompous dunderhead like Hammer,” Tony said as flung himself into his lover’s arms for he could no longer rein in his fears. “He…he means to hang you by the tallest tree in Hammer’s park.”

“I take it as a compliment,” Steve simply said, rubbing soothing circles upon Tony’s back.

“You’re not taking it seriously,” Tony said, drawing back to look Steve in the eye. “You think I merely come bearing rumors and gossip.”

“You do love to dramatize things,” Steve teased.

“And you ignore your safety and wellbeing entirely,” Tony complained.

“What would you have me do then?”

“I beg you to be more cautious and I have a few ideas to better arm and protect you,” Tony said with a decisive nod.

“No,” Steve gave a firm reply, accompanied with a stomp of his foot. “You’re not like the rest of them, Tony, because you have a heart, a conscience, and your principles, and you stopped building weapons because those principles wouldn’t allow you to do so. I have plenty of swords and canons on my ship. Thank you very much. I would not let you sacrifice your principles out of fear for my life.”

“Why? Hawkeye came to me with his ideas to improve his bow and arrow. Bucky asked me to design compartments for concealing knives in his metal arm and let me go wild with adding retractable blades into his fists and spikes upon the upper arm. Even Thor allowed me to upgrade his hammer for a bigger more well-balanced model,” Tony listed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Why won’t you let me help you?”

“You have helped me more than you know,” Steve said, trying to pull him into a hug.

“All right,” Tony said, evading his grip, “You don’t wish for me to make weapons? Fine. But at least allow me to build a shield so you have something to defend yourself instead of charging into combat with dual swords.” He had not known any peace ever since the crew began sharing their stories with him and an alarming number of those featured Steve acting like a madman with no care for self-preservation.

“You’re fussing,” Steve said with a delighted and disbelieving little laugh. “You’re fussing like a wife.”

Tony slapped his chest and turned away from him. “Great! Make fun of me for caring and worrying about you.”

Steve hugged him from behind and rest his chin upon into the crook of the neck to whisper, “Fine, dear, if a shield would set your mind at ease, then it will be my honor to carry it.”

“Really,” Tony asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Really,” Steve echoed. “Let’s not quarrel anymore,” Steve said, holding him close and nuzzling their cheeks together before he began to speak in a more seductive and suggestive tone. “It’s such a beautiful day and I am sick and tired of sneaking around and only having you to myself at night. I have an idea for how we should spend the rest of your afternoon and evening.”

“I don’t how I feel about fucking in my workshop, Steve. I work here and anyone could walk in on us,” Tony protested since even with his reputation it was Steve who had the more insatiable appetites among them, and he had grown accustomed to their nights, but his heart would give out if he had to keep up with the younger man during the day as well.

Steve laughed. “I didn’t even think of that. You truly are insatiable,” Steve had the audacity to say that as he lightly spanked Tony’s soft dick for putting such ideas in his head. “I was going to ask you to join me for fishing. Let’s escape, darling. We can take a boat out to a nice spot, and then plunge deep into the wilderness like men of ancient times, who lived as they pleased, with no interference from society. I will build us a fire. And you will taste fish far better than anything that could ever come out of your kitchen and dine in some beautiful meadow underneath the stars. Will you join me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	9. Hook Line and Sinker

The late afternoon sun hung over the tranquil sea as their little boat swayed in the gentle tides where they stopped rowing. Jarvis had fixed them a light lunch in a picnic basket. Tony thought it unnecessary after the events of this morning and all the cake forced upon him had successfully killed his appetite, but he grossly underestimated what a herculean task rowing a boat could be. His arms were sore. His stomach rumbling. He was shocked to discover what little he did when Steve scolded him, halfway out here, for not pulling his weight and leaving all the heavy lifting to him like a proud lord catching a ride with some lowly ferryman. They ate their food in perfect silence, lulled by the warm sun, the sea breeze, and the gentle rocking of their boat. And while Tony still took his sweet time gobbling up his grapes, Steve moved onto fixing a worm on a line and looked up at him with a smile.

“Do you want me to do it for you as well?” Steve asked.

“No,” Tony replied, taking offense at being coddled. “I am a grown man. I can fix a worm on my own hook.” He tossed aside what remained of the grape-bunch back into the basket and snatched the line from Steve. He felt Steve’s gaze upon him, where he sat in the bows of the boat, frowning as he concentrated on the task at hand. Either it was his lover’s distracting gaze or the wriggling of the worm, but he ended up cutting his thumb upon the hook. Tony swore under his breath. He had already shed sweat and blood for his dinner. He refused to shed any tears. Was _this_ Steve’s idea of relaxation?

“I cannot do it,” Tony accepted defeat most angrily when he glanced up and found Steve laughing at him.

“Let me do it for you,” Steve said, gesturing for him to return the line.

“That is beside the point. I wish to do it myself,” Tony said with newfound resolve, “And I will not be beaten.”

Steve did not answer but whistled to himself and tore his gaze away to admire the birds flying overhead. Tony once again settled into the task at hand and cried out in triumph, “I have done it, look, I have done it,” and held the line for him to see with a childlike enthusiasm he didn’t experience in years.

“Very good, you’re a quick learner,” Steve said, and for some reason, it soothed his inner child like parental validation he never received from his own father, who was always too busy to take him along on his hunting or fishing trips.

There was no action or sport to it though. They simply sat there in silence and stillness with nothing to break it but the gentle sea breeze, the sound of seagulls, the faint ripples in the water, wisps of seaweed floating by in the ebbing tide, and the sun slowly drifting to the horizon. Tony would pull out the wet line to examine the hook, every now and then with impatience, but the worm remained untouched, except by the seaweed clinging to the end of the line.

“You’re letting it fall to the sea-bed,” Steve said.

Tony might have argued if Steve wasn’t so absorbed with his own fishing, quietly content, and not coming to criticize or intrude upon him in any way. He simply let the hook sink, pulling up the length a bit this time. Still, he was bored to death. He had nothing to do with his restless hands but fish. Steve, on the other hand, used this time to draw as usual in the sketchbook he had brought along. He thought it a landscape, at first, but when boredom had him trying to sneak a peek, he was delighted to discover it was a sketch of him.

“Finally a sketch of me with my clothes on,” Tony teased him.

“You forget my very first,” Steve pointed out.

“Don’t remind me that,” Tony said with a dismissive wave of a hand. That detailed depiction capturing all his wrinkles and aging lines still haunted his dreams. Steve had it framed in his captain’s cabin, and they were the only two people privy to the information that the paper was sealed between two layers of glass, and could be turned in the frame for when Steve was alone in there and in the mood for the sketch of Tony sprawled out naked in bed after their first night together. The one he was currently drawing still had a long way to go for his cruel lover to add any details but Steve had certainly caught a likeness of Tony in a more cheerful and fascinated mood this time.

“Still cross with me for capturing your likeness to the best of my abilities?” Steve asked with a hint of dismay and sadness.

Tony couldn’t make him feel either, so he replied, “I’m not cross with you but with the passage of time for I wish I was still as young and beautiful as I was in the portrait that hangs in my bedroom.”

“Would you believe me if I said you’re far more handsome now compared to that boyish version of you?” Steve asked. Surely he didn’t truly mean it and was only saying it to make him feel better.

“Are you telling me I’ve aged like fine wine, my good captain,” Tony teased, making bedroom eyes at him. “You don’t have to flatter me to get into my pants, Steve; you have an open invitation now.”

“I’m not,” Steve said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Besides, the brushwork on that ugly portrait... what sort of lazy artist did you even commission to paint it?”

“Of all the things you could be jealous of, Rogers,” Tony said, bumping shoulders with him. “This is why I lo…” he began before he realized the horror of what he was going to confess so casually. When the hell did that happen? And how? They had only known each other a month. Was it a heat of the moment thing or did he truly mean it? Steve was watching him with an intense burning gaze, pencil and fishing line forgotten. What would Steve have thought of him he had let the words slip? Would he find him pathetic or was the feeling mutual? As Steve’s gaze kept demanding he finish that sentence, Tony said instead, “That is why I love your art. You really are something else. You could quit piracy and become an artist tomorrow and—”

Steve scoffed. “I’m sure I’ll be swimming in gold then,” he remarked sarcastically. Even though this began as an attempt to divert attention away from his almost confession, Tony couldn’t allow Steve to believe he couldn’t succeed as an artist. He was prepared to mount his attack, when Steve interrupted him with, “Oh look! You have a fish on your line.”

“You’re a brilliant artist. Don’t you dare sell yourself short,” Tony protested. He couldn’t allow some stupid fish to stop him from speaking his mind.

“Listen to me,” Steve said, pointing to the tugging line.

“No, you listen to me,” Tony shot back.

“If you don’t want to land the fish, then hand me the line,” Steve sighed.

“I do want to catch it myself,” Tony said, feeling competitive about it all of a sudden.

“Haul it in then,” Steve said.

He did so, reluctantly, a little sulky, but as he felt the tug and pull from the other end of the line, he finally understood the excitement and enjoyment of the sport. He began to haul faster. Water splashed upon him, wetting his clothes now, but he no longer cared for such things.

“I can feel it. It’s there. I can feel a big one at the end of the hook,” Tony declared with excitement.

“Not so fast. You may lose it,” Steve warned. “Be gentle. Gently bring it to the side of the boat.”

Tony was far too ecstatic to follow instructions. He let the premature triumph get the better of him and suddenly jumped up to his feet, letting the line slip for a moment, and then pulled harder than ever to make up for his mistake. As he caught sight of the fish struggling to the surface, he hesitated for a moment. The fished jerked upon the line. He stood motionless. Then, the fish slipped away and disappeared.

“I lost it. Our dinner got away,” Tony cried in disappointment as he turned to his partner, expecting disappointment reflected in his eyes as well but only found understanding and amusement.

“You got too excited,” Steve laughed as he brushed away all the wet hair that now clung to Tony’s defeated face after a damned fish outsmarted him.

“I can’t help it. I expected it all to be so boring but it was so lovely to feel that tug at the end of the line. I wanted to catch dinner for you so badly,” Tony pouted.

“You’ll catch another,” Steve said.

“But my line is in a tangle now,” Tony said, pointing to where it lay.

“Give it to me,” Steve said, taking it from him.

“No,” Tony protested. “I can do it myself.”

Steve returned it with a quaint expression and left Tony to gather up the hopeless tangle of the wet line in his lap, which had twisted into countless loops and knots, and the more he tried to set it straight, it tangled up worse than before. He glanced up, frowning with vexation. Steve stretched out a hand, without even looking back at him, his focus entirely on his own line. No mocking. No judgment. No cockiness. Tony handed it to him; then, sat back and watched Steve’s skilled hands, which drew beautiful sketches and unraveled his body every night, now carefully unravel the twists and turns of the fishing line with the same focus and attention. Ugh. Tony had it bad. He had it bad for this man. When did he fall so hard for him?

As the sky and the sea assumed a deeper shade of blue in the east, the setting sun painted the landscape in vibrant shades of red and gold upon the western horizon. Steve had untangled the line and flung it back into the water. He handed it back to Tony with a sweet smile.

“Thank you,” Tony said in a small subdued voice, returning the smile with sudden warmth radiating throughout his chest.

They continued fishing as several birds made their way to their nests, singing their sweet songs of the evening. He had never felt so much at peace before. All his demons were suddenly tamed by this silence and his presence like he had fallen under a spell. A strange enchantment. Yet, there was an echo of something he had always desired and longed for in the silence. In another life, he would have kept on living in London, blissfully unaware, and Steve, out on the open sea, only docking in his abandoned home for a couple of days at a time, never meeting, never knowing each other, and that feeling rung with such horror and desolation, now that his mind, body, and his heart were filled with life and warmth never known before, all because he had found him.

Tony noticed Steve tugging at his line, and leaned over his shoulder to ask, “Have you caught something?”

“Yes,” Steve replied. “Do you wish to pull it in?”

“That would be unfair,” Tony said with an obvious longing. “It’s yours.”

With a laugh and a shake of his head, Steve handed Tony his fishing line, and this time, Tony brought the struggling fish gently to the side of the boat, didn’t hesitate, and dropped it only the bottom boards. The fish jumped and flapped. In its struggle, it coiled in the fishing line. Tony knelt down and seized it in his hands. He was now completely drenched and disheveled.

“He isn’t as big as the one I lost,” Tony observed.

“They never are,” Steve replied.

“But I caught it and I pulled it in right this time, didn’t I?” Tony asked, seeking validation.

“You did well,” Steve replied.

Tony was still kneeling, struggling to take out the hook from the struggling fish’s mouth. “Poor thing. It’s dying. I’m hurting it. What shall I do?” he asked, turning to Steve in his distress.

Steve knelt down beside him and took the fish from his grasp. He released the hook with a sudden jerk. Then he pulled out a knife and jabbed it into the fish. It suffered only for an instant. Then…it died.

“You killed it,” Tony said sadly.

“Yes,” Steve replied. “Was that not what you wanted me to do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	10. Underneath the Starry Sky

Steve led their boat to a stream running inland to the most wild and untamed part of Tony’s vast estate, which was left to flourish as a forest, untouched, and hadn’t seen an axe since these giant trees claimed the lands for themselves. No one disturbed their peace. Even Tony hadn’t ventured into these parts since he was a child. As they rowed upstream, the brilliance of the sunset faded away from the sky and made way for the dark and mysterious night. Tony inhaled a deep breath. The earthy aroma of moss dominated the air, accompanied by the bitter tang of bluebells.

“Look, fireflies,” Steve said, pointing to the clearing where the little lights hovered.

“Let’s make camp there,” Tony suggested because he simply couldn’t deny Steve something that filled him such wonder and fascination.

They pushed the boat into the soft mud, climbed ashore, and tied it to a tree at the edge of the clearing. Steve tossed aside his boots to walk barefoot upon the grass, shrugged off his shirt to let it hang upon a tree branch to dry, and asked in a thick sultry voice, “Hungry?”

“Yes,” Tony replied, his voice a little uncertain and not quite his own.

“You should take this off too,” Steve said, unbuttoning Tony’s shirt before he even had a chance to make up his mind about it. “You’re all wet. You might catch a cold.”

“My pants are soaking as well,” Tony protested.

“Take them off then,” Steve said as he hung the shirt beside his upon the tree branch. When Tony bent over to wrestle the wet breeches off him, his cruel lover didn’t miss the opportunity to spank his ass before ordering, “And then, go find some dry twigs for us to build a fire.”

“Anything else I can do for you, Captain,” Tony asked in a mock subservient voice.

“I’m sure I’ll think of something later,” Steve chuckled, getting started on cleaning the fish.

Tony knew nothing of living this primitive nomadic existence Steve was in the mood for but let it never be said that Tony Stark cannot adapt. He gathered the best dry twigs he could find and began to break and arrange them. Steve returned from the water’s edge, having cleaned the fish. He knelt beside Tony, striking the flint and tinder and kindling the flame before placing the fish upon a stone in the center to brown. It had the most wonderful smell of fresh meat being cooked, something which rarely accompanied the fish cooked in his kitchen. Tony searched the picnic basket for plates, cutlery, and leftovers in the meantime. By the time Steve judged the fish done, and sliced the sizzling fish in half, Tony had already prepared two plates with some leftover bread, salad, and fruit. Somehow, it made for a better dinner party than the one he threw to seduce the man.

“It’s a pity we don’t have wine,” Tony mused as he took a bite of the perfectly cooked fish they had labored for all afternoon.

Steve rose to his feet, went to the boat, and returned with a long slim bottle, two glasses, and a pleased smile. “Happy now?” he asked, pouring him a glass of wine.

“Very,” Tony replied, impressed by the man’s newfound ability to anticipate his desires long before he voiced them. Was this why he felt the way he did? Did Steve feel the same way? Was that the secret behind his supernatural abilities to see so clearly into his heart despite the wall of solid metal he had encased it within?

“What are you thinking about?” Steve asked.

Ah! Tony was so not ready to have that conversation. So, instead, he asked, “Did you go through the dossier I gave you?”

“I see you’re still eager to ship me off,” Steve grumbled into his glass of wine.

As one of the richest men in the country, he used to receive investment proposals from colonial companies all over Europe, with a detailed account of their finances, future projections, and expansion plans. Their agreement involved him getting a say in the prizes they went after but Tony never believed in micromanaging and exerting too much control over his associates. Steve had been doing this for a long time. Tony trusted his expertise. So, he handed over all that he had on the companies. He also had his most trusted estate managers, Happy and Pepper, dig up all the dirt that they could find on the most despicable and deserving individual targets, under the guise of searching for new investors for his potential farming equipment business. Pepper wasn’t pleased with his choices, of course, and had begun compiling a list of better investors, which he didn’t mind, since he would require that after building his prototypes anyway. He was thankful for her foresight. Rhodey, on the other hand, was far more suspicious of his sudden interest in the slave trade and their ship routes. Still, he went above and beyond in gathering all the intel Tony needed.

Steve was in possession of all this information and was well informed of Tony’s intentions. The how and when and what to go after first was left to him to decide. For the past month, the pirate had been poring over all the paperwork and his maps to devise a strategy for the first mission they would go on after Tony joining the crew. But so far, there was no concrete plan, at least nothing Tony was aware of. And he was certainly in no hurry until today. This morning changed that. Tony was anxious for them to be on their way, catching bigger fish, instead of being sitting ducks here for the likes of Hammer and Killian.

“Does your little land-owner association even have a plan for my capture?” Steve asked bitterly.

“Not yet,” Tony replied, “but it’s only a matter of time—”

“Well, that already puts them several steps behind me,” Steve interrupted. “I don’t see why you fear those idiots more than you trust me. That fool, Killian, who somehow managed to get inside your head, was shaking like a leaf and hiding underneath his bed when I stole all his possessions from right under his nose. If he had the balls to challenge me, he would have drawn the swords hanging right there, over his bed, and attacked me then and there. He didn’t. Now he brags in front of his rich friends about hanging me. Do you see now, why I’m having a hard time taking any of this seriously?”

“Do you have a plan to evade them?” Tony asked, not caring for anything he said after the fact that he was ahead of them in this game of cat and mouse.

“I do,” Steve replied in that annoying mysterious way of his.

“Well, what is it?” Tony asked impatiently.

“I’ll tell you when those fools form any real plans during their little tea parties. Until then, rest assured that I’m handling it,” Steve said with a squeeze upon the hand he laid on Tony. “And as for your dossier, I have selected a target and done some due diligence of my own.”

“When do we set sail?” Tony asked as he gobbled up the last of the delicious fish Steve had cooked for him.

“Not so fast,” Steve laughed. “Tomorrow, I’ll commence work on plotting all the fine details of my plan. In a week, I’ll let you and the rest of the crew in on it. Then, we all share our inputs and vote on the decision. After all that we make preparations to set sail.”

“Well, then, send Scott up to my workshop tomorrow,” Tony said. “It’s time I break him in as my Second Engineer as he assists me with the prototypes for my farming equipment, and of course, your shield.”

“I will,” Steve echoed with a smile at last. “But Tony…” he began with much hesitation, staring into the flames as the twigs began to crumble and fall, turning to ash in the low burning flame. “Are you certain you want to do this? The crew can make do with just Scott if you decide to back out. No one will think less of you. Rest assured, it’ll be as if you were never one of us. I promise I will tear off your name from the ledger and burn it so that nothing remains to tarnish your reputation among your peers.”

“My peers,” Tony demanded in anger. “I thought you and the crew were my peers. Why would you even say such a thing?”

“You seem quite rattled from this morning’s meeting. I thought it best to offer you a way out. I mean it,” Steve said in all seriousness.

“I’m coming along on your next voyage,” Tony declared, “And you can’t stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Steve teased, pretending to be scared like the little shit that he was before he shrugged and added, “Last chance to back out.”

“Stop it,” Tony said, flinging a grape at him. “Why would I wish to back out?”

“Because gentlemen who fear killing a fish are far too precious piracy,” Steve said in a way that left Tony wondering if he was teasing or truly serious.

“I will prove you wrong, Rogers,” Tony declared, looking away in resentment.

“What if you get seasick?”

“I’ve journeyed all the way to India, and I didn’t get sick once.”

“What if you grow cold, uncomfortable, and frightened?”

“I would never be frightened.” Tony stared up at the pirate, antagonistic and angry, like he was during their first meeting. He flung fresh wood into the smoldering fire and the flames suddenly crackled and leaped in the air. “How much are you willing to wager that I wouldn’t be able to fulfill my duties to the best of my capabilities, and instead, become sick, cold, or frightened?”

“It depends on what we have to offer each other,” Steve said, waving a hand between them.

“My ring,” Tony said at once. “The gold and ruby ring I wore the night we first dined together.”

“You wore it a lot longer than that if I recall correctly,” Steve said suggestively since Tony wore that ring and nothing else in the nude sketch decorating the captain’s cabin.

“Yes that,” Tony waved it off in irritation since he was in no mood for sexual innuendos.

“Fine, I accept,” Steve said. “And if it’s a ring that you wager, then I raise you my royal navy ring, the only thing that remains in my possession from my former life as a respectable, law abiding, straight as an arrow, captain in his majesty’s navy.”

Tony’s sat there shell-shocked before he cast aside his empty plate and rose to his feet to look down upon Steve. “You would wager something so significant for your lack of confidence in me?”

“Let’s just say, if there’s anyone I’m willing to lose it to, it’s you,” Steve said, sipping the last of the wine in his glass before he too stood to face him.

“It’s a deal,” Tony said, offering his hand.

“Indeed, it is,” Steve said, shaking it before he pulled him forward and added, “But shouldn’t we seal it with a kiss?”

“We most certainly should not,” Tony replied, raising his chin haughtily.

“Why?” Steve asked, with a hand resting underneath the unyielding chin, “Too afraid to kiss a pirate after tea with Killian.”

“You know what,” Tony yelled before sealing their lips with such intense ferocity as if he had something to prove. He was quite pleased with himself when he withdrew and saw that it left Steve breathless and thirsty for more.

“Come here,” Steve said, burying a hand in his hair and drawing him in for another.

“Let go of me you brute,” Tony whined because he was still mad at him.

Steve raised a brow in confusion and asked, “Are we playing that game again or do you truly wish to call it a day and return home?”

“Uh…what is with you and asking me to call it a day?” Tony asked, walking away to go grab the blankets and pillows they brought along in case they decided to stay here. And stay here they would. Tony’s ego wouldn’t allow him to return home and sleep in the comfort of his featherbed now. Not when Steve had asked him to call it quits…yet again. No, sir. They would sleep here underneath the stars and all the fireflies hovering over them. Grumbling and muttering in frustration, Tony made their bed upon the grass, while Steve watched on from a distance with great amusement.

Only when Tony slipped between the sheets, did Steve approach him as careful and skittish as a cat. “So stars, huh,” Steve said, awkwardly waving a hand at the night sky.

“Do you wish to share your nautical knowledge of stars, oh wise captain,” Tony teased, resting on his side with his head propped up by his elbow, watching his not-so-cocky lover with great amusement.

“Sure, we could do that,” Steve shrugged.

“Oh, get over here and kiss me already,” Tony said, pulling the big buff buffoon on top of him.

“Not that I’m complaining but you’re giving me a lot of mixed signals right now,” Steve said in between the kisses he pepped on his cheeks, neck, and chest.

“Oh, hush now.” Tony wiggled his brows suggestively and added, “And speaking of games…”

“I’m listening,” Steve said, licking his lips.

“Let’s play a game of highway robbery,” Tony said, clapping his hands in excitement at the brilliant idea, “Where you sabotage my carriage to rob me and—”

“Why am I always the robber?” Steve protested. “Even at home, you make me play the intruder, barging into your room to rob the helpless lord, only to find him naked in bed.” He rolled his eyes. “Do you want me to rob you?”

“Do you want to rob me?” Tony asked, already playing the captured prey as he writhed underneath Steve.

“No,” Steve shot back.

“Don’t be a spoilsport,” Tony whined.

“Fine,” Steve sighed, “If you want me to play the rogue, yet again, then you can suck my dick and choke on it.”

“Ah, music to my ears,” Tony said, already salivating at the prospect of it since it was quite rare for Steve to do a decent job at talking dirty in bed.

Steve shook his head and smiled as he stood up and drew his absolute monstrosity of a cock. “Hand over all your money or I stab you in the mouth with this.”

“Oh, heavens have mercy,” Tony said, clutching his chest in mock fear and shock. “I don’t have any more money on me. You already took all that I have, even the shirt on my back,” he said, pointing to where their clothes hung upon the tree branch, “and my breeches. What more can I give?”

“You have plenty more to give you… you… you rich man,” Steve muttered after much thought since he was simply terrible with coming up with insults and often ended up some of the most hilarious of insults.

Tony suppressed a laugh as he said like an absolute damsel, “Please, sir, I would do anything you ask.”

“Anything,” Steve asked with a comically evil laugh.

“Okay, now you’re just butchering it on purpose,” Tony chastised him. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he ordered, “Once again but with more menace.”

“I’ll show you menace,” Steve grumbled before shoving his dick into Tony’s mouth without warning. Tony had learned and had grown far more experienced at pleasuring a man by now. He didn’t break eye contact with Steve as he wrapped his lips tightly around the tip of the penis and slowly swirled his tongue all over it until he hit bull’s eye and toyed with the slit on top using just the tip of his tongue. Steve had other plans though. Burying both hands into Tony’s curls, Steve gathered up all his hair in a tight grip, and then, impaled his mouth upon the monstrosity with no mercy until it hit the back of Tony’s throat.

Tony mumbled a silent protest.

“What’s that you say, my lord?” Steve teased. “Harder?”

Tony would show him who has who literally by the balls right now. Fondling with the balls, he tried to relax his mouth to make room for the monstrosity and looked into Steve’s eyes in challenge, daring him to go harder, instead of touting empty words. Steve obliged. He was absolutely ruthless in plundering and using Tony’s mouth however he pleased, completely consumed by the carnal desire to chase his release, while Tony sat kneeling at his feet, taking it most obediently. This is what he desired. This is what he truly desired—for Steve to completely let go and take him without any coddling or inhibition whatsoever. Ah, to be so sinfully taken by one’s lover.

With almost a growl, Steve filled his mouth with cum, and with two fingers stationed underneath his chin, the pirate ordered, “Go ahead. Drink up your mushroom soup, my lord.” Ugh. Steve didn’t let him live down that terrible joke from their first night together. Tony swallowed it all. Steve fell to his knees and pulled Tony in for before wrestling him back to their sheets. He lay there upon his back with his eyes closed, reveling in the afterglow of his orgasm, while Tony snuggled with him using his chest as a pillow.

“Now, let’s see what I can do for you,” Steve said, burying his hand into Tony’s underpants only to look up in horror as he attempted to shake awake the small flaccid cock he had pulled out. “What happened? You’re usually so hot and bothered after these games. Was I too rough with you? I knew it. I went too far,” he went on in his guilt and anxiety.

“It’s not,” Tony said, shaking his hand, “It’s not you.”

“Then what is it?” Steve asked, pulling Tony closer to him, “And I swear to god, don’t say you’ve still got Killian on your mind.”

Tony laughed, laying a hand upon Steve’s heart, grasping for it, wishing he could uncover the secrets buried underneath simply by tugging at it. His almost confession of love was still haunting him. The more he tried to forget about it, the more convinced he was of his feelings for Steve. He was terrified. He wasn’t just afraid of the fragility of his own heart but how they might be reflected by his lover.

“Steve,” Tony began. Steve covered the hand nervously grasping at his chest with his own, squeezing it in assurance. “Do you like me?” he asked in a small voice, looking up at the pirate in fear and self-doubt.

“Of course, I like you, Tony,” Steve said with a big dopey smile. “I like you very much.”

“But how,” Tony asked with a voice filled with far more yearning and desperation than what he had intended. “Do you simply like me as a friend and partner in crime or as…more?”

“Tony, I just had my cock in your mouth,” Steve said, sounding exasperated before drew their attention back to Tony’s displeased dick. “Not to mention, I’m palming yours as we speak.” This was so frustrating! Why couldn’t Steve understand what troubled his heart?

“But did you have your cock in my mouth as comrades rolling in the proverbial hay or does it mean something to you too?” Tony demanded.

“It means a lot to me,” Steve replied. “What are you getting at? Speak plainly.”

Tony looked down, nuzzling into Steve’s chest to soothe his insecurity. “You said…you said men on your ships go as far as forging marriage-like unions of matelotage, yet, it’s quite uncommon for the relationship to be romantic and monogamy rarer still.”

“Do you wish to become my mate?” Steve asked, sounding perplexed and a bit terrified by the sound of it.

“No,” Tony said, meeting his gaze to smooth out his agitation. “Oh, god no, we hardly know each other and it would be a terribly rushed affair.”

“Then, what do you mean,” Steve frowned as if turning Tony’s words in his mind over and over again. “Wait”—he inched away with a sudden gasp—“Were all my romantic gestures so insufficient that they weren’t even perceived.” This was the first time Steve had allowed himself to be so vulnerable that his eyes and his tone were silently screaming with hurt and insecurity, like he wasn’t good enough, like he wasn’t sufficient enough, and oh, it tore Tony’s heart asunder.

“No, Steve, no,” Tony said, climbing on top of him to gently cup his lover’s face between his hands and make him see eye to eye. “They were more than sufficient, my darling, they are my most cherished memories. Don’t you dare let this line of thought run amok! Until I met you, I’ve been flirted with and desired. I’ve even been wanted for my wealth, resources, and connections. But I have never felt so safe in a lover’s arms, so cared for, and romanced like this,” he said, pointing to their surroundings. “You must believe me. I beseech you. I…I…” He couldn’t say it. Why couldn’t he say it? It was three simple words. Why was it so hard for him to simply admit it?

“Oh, I get it now,” Steve said with a decisive and amused nod. “You’re worried I might have eyes for someone else. There’s no one else, Tony. For the last month, I’ve only had eyes for you.” He searched Tony’s eyes with confusion growing at an alarming rate. “And…and I plan on it staying that way for as long as we are together.”

“And what of when we’re separated?” Tony asked because torturing Steve with this was far more amusing than dealing with his own feelings. “What if I have to go away for a few days to attend to urgent business? What if you have to leave on a long voyage without me? What happens then?”

“Why do you think I sketched all those nudes of you?” Steve shrugged.

Tony let out a hearty laugh.

Steve held his face and gently brushed a thumb upon his cheek. “That’s better. There’s that lovely look that suits you best.”

Tony gazed into his lover’s eyes and decided to take a leap of faith. Consequences be damned. “I don’t know how to say this. It almost slipped out in the heat of the moment while we were fishing but for some reason, it’s just…I…Steve, I…”

“I know,” Steve said with a sweet smile. “I often find myself grappling with the same conundrum.”

“You do?” Tony whispered.

“I do,” Steve replied. “And while we’re on the subject, I believe I have more reason for concern over my lover’s fidelity than you do,” he pointed out in a casual tone but his eyes told another story.

“Oh Steve, my lovely, strapping, beautiful, Steve,” Tony sighed. “You might think me a philanderer, and sure, I have the reputation and the history to back it up, but I would have you know that I am utterly whipped for you.”

“That’s good to know,” Steve said with a sigh of relief before he pulled Tony closer to him as they lay there in perfect silence upon their mattress of plush glass, gazing at the starry sky that served as their roof tonight. Tony drifted into a dreamlike state between wakefulness and sleep, while his lover stroked his newly hardened dick with gentle hands, lulling him to sleep. And he could finally admit it. Maybe not to Steve. But he was ready to admit it to himself. He was in love with Steve Rogers like he had never loved another. He was so utterly and irrevocably in love with him that he could follow his beloved to the ends the earth. And he would. With a smile on his lips, he fell asleep in his lover’s arms with dreams of the adventure they would soon embark upon and many more to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	11. Bon Voyage

Tony was fast asleep and quite enjoying the rest he had earned, after a hard day of labor in his workshop, building prototypes for his farming equipment and adding final touches to Steve’s shield, which he had painted red, white, and blue for the man’s favorite colors. He awoke with a start when he felt someone shake him in his sleep. It was Jarvis!? The butler leaned over his bed and gestured he remain quiet and not rouse the entire household.

“Forgive my intrusion, sir, but it’s time,” Jarvis made the ominous declaration.

“What do you mean _it’s time_?” Tony asked, rolling his sleep weary eyes. “Time for what? What is the meaning of this, Jarvis? I don’t recall permitting you to wander into my bedroom at night. I could be indecent.”

“I knew Captain Rogers wasn’t in bed with you, sir,” Jarvis replied.

“How could you know that for certain?” Tony demanded.

“Because he’s the one who sent me to inform you that the ship sets sail before sunrise,” Jarvis explained. “There’s more. The entire crew is gathering for a meeting to discuss and vote on the matter before that. So, you only have half an hour to get ready, gather your things, and make it downstairs.”

Tony sighed. “Very well, Jarvis. I suppose I must go pack my things.”

“I have already taken the liberty to pack a small bag for you, sir,” Jarvis said, holding it up. “And since I was just made aware of your wager with the captain, I put a small pouch of medicines in there as well. I take it with me whenever I’m forced to endure voyages. I hope it serves you well if you begin to feel sea-sick. There’s a note in there with instructions for what to take and how much depending on your symptoms.”

“Thank you, Jarvis, you’re a lifesaver,” Tony said, shocking the butler with a hug.

Jarvis pulled away with the visible discomfort of an Englishman offered intimacy and friendship without proper warning and took one last look around the room to see if he had missed anything. With an audible sigh, he plucked the bottle of scented olive oil upon the nightstand and dropped it into the bag as well. Tony shot him a disbelieving look from where he stood searching for his plainest clothes.

“You two on a ship, out on the open sea,” Jarvis scoffed. “Forgive me for being presumptuous, sir, but the situation strikes me as positively pregnant with possibilities, and I would rather you get offended than hurt.”

“Jarvis, you are very…French in your ideas,” Tony teased.

“For that, you must blame my mother, sir,” Jarvis replied, offering up the first bit of information about his personal life and family.

“You forget that I’m a respectable gentleman, about to turn forty soon enough,” Tony reminded him.

“Would you believe me if I said, these are the two things I most consider while making decisions on your behalf, sir?”

Concealing his smile, Tony quickly changed into the simple clothes he had set aside for this occasion, a simple open-necked shirt like the ones Steve wore, long breeches that didn’t require stockings, and comfortable boots made of supple suede. Ah, he felt a different man. He bid his dogs goodbye with loving pats and kisses, and after having his face licked profusely, he urged them to be on their best behavior while he was gone. Tony took a quick detour to the workshop to grab the shield before making his way down to his not-so-private beach.

Jarvis parted ways with him once they were on board the ship to go meet the crew in their quarters. Tony, on the other hand, went straight for the captain’s cabin. He hid the shield behind the door as he dumped his bag into a corner, disrupting Steve’s focus, from all the paperwork he sat poring with a little frown on his forehead.

“Is it wise to shack up with me instead of staying with the rest of the crew in their quarters below deck?” Steve teased without looking up at him much like their first meeting. “We can’t have them thinking that my Chief Engineer slept his way to the top. Now, can we?”

“That ship sailed a long time ago, beloved,” Tony replied with a bright smile when Steve met his gaze with a little laugh. He pulled out the shield. “And I come bearing gifts.”

“It’s…” Steve said, drawn to the shield as if hypnotized by it, and brushing his fingers over it like it was fragile work of art, “Beautiful.”

“You think so,” Tony asked, sliding it onto his arm.

Steve tested it out with a few quick and agile maneuvers. “It’s lighter than I expected and perfectly balanced and so…”

“Aerodynamically stable,” Tony provided.

“I don’t know what that means,” Steve said with an embarrassed little half-smile before he knocked upon the metal. “Strong. I was going to so say this is quite strong for something so light and sleek. I love it, Tony. Thank you for making this for me,” he said with a light kiss on Tony’s cheek before returning to ogling his shield with the same sense of awe and admiration with which he once looked at Tony.

“I thought you promised to only have eyes for me?” Tony said, only half-joking, half-concerned for his sanity.

“Oh, Tony, are you jealous of your own creation?” Steve said with a light playful punch. “I was simply thinking of the possibilities and all the things I could do with this shield.”

“Ah, I remember when that was me,” Tony said, letting out a mock tragic sigh.

Steve laughed. “For battle, Tony! Things I could do with this shield in combat, you know like you wanted me to when you began fussing about my safety like a wife.”

Tony threw a playful punch of his own, which backfired when Steve dodged it with the shield, leaving Tony to discover the strength of his creation for himself. His cruel lover walked away with a laugh as Tony shook off the pain from his hand. Steve set aside the shield and began rummaging under his desk for something.

“What are you looking for?” Tony asked.

“This,” Steve declared, holding up one of his beautiful and ornate dual swords in its leather scabbard dangling from a sword belt. That was weird. Shouldn’t both swords be attached to the same belt? Steve returned to him with an amused smile at the befuddled look upon his face and began to tie the sword belt around Tony’s waist.

“Umm…what are you doing?” Tony asked, more confused than ever.

“Arming you,” Steve replied with a casual half-shrug. “Piracy is dangerous business, my lord.”

“But,” Tony mumbled, shaking his head with disbelief, “This is yours.”

“I’m sure as a world-renowned weapons expert, you must know that I can either dual wield or wield a sword and a shield. I have no use for it anymore. And it is you I charge my loyal and trusted sword to protect now.”

“Would you really break up the set for me?” Tony asked, deeply touched by the gesture. “It’s a pair.”

“So are we,” Steve replied.

“I guess we are,” Tony managed to let out an overwhelmed whisper and thanked him with a chaste kiss upon his lips.

“Do you know how to use it?” Steve asked in that caring way of his that was certainly well-meaning but it always set him off the wrong way.

“I will have you know, Rogers, that I grew up practicing dueling with some of the finest masters in London. I know a bit of boxing. And I have excellent aim with a gun,” Tony defending his skills in combat since he wasn’t some delicate dandy, but held the title of a damn baron who had spent most of his life in his majesty’s court gaining skills fit for his position, and he couldn’t build a career surround himself with knights and warriors and sell weapons to men of war without learning to speak their language.

“Well, if it was the finest masters in London,” Steve said, sounding impressed but Tony knew…he just knew the little shit was only amused by his claims of gaining all these skills for sport. “But maybe you can make some protective gear for yourself too.”

“Like your shield?” Tony asked.

“I was thinking more on the lines of that,” Steve said, throwing his hand up in the general vicinity of a hollow armor standing guard in a corner of the cabin.

“Is that made of gold?” Tony asked because that would be ludicrous.

“I wish,” Steve sighed. “That’s what I thought when I stole it but it turned out to be just paint.”

“Maybe you can paint over it,” Tony suggested.

“What? Throw in some red, like the getup you chose to seduce me when we first dined together,” Steve teased, wiggling his brows.

“Wait… Are you suggesting that I wear that?” Tony asked. “An armor! An armor like some kind of a medieval knight. To what? Serve my role as the Chief Engineer on board this ship?”

“Exactly,” Steve agreed, “now you’re getting it. Anything could happen. We could be ambushed or attacked. Someone could board our ship and begin attacking anyone and everyone. It would keep you safe when someone comes charging at you.” At first, he thought the bastard was making fun of him but the longer he stood there glaring daggers at the man, he realized, Steve meant it in earnest.

“Now who is fussing like a wife?” Tony scoffed. “In fact, you’re fussing like a mother, Steve. I can’t walk around clad in full armor when Wanda is out there dressed in a flowy gown.”

“Wanda has premonitions and is forewarned for her safety and wellbeing. That’s why I keep her close to me,” Steve said, resting his hands upon Tony’s shoulders like the mother-hen he had suddenly transformed into. “You need to be protected.”

“I think you’re having cold feet before our first time setting sail together,” Tony said, gently pushing his hands aside and holding them in his. “I don’t need to be protected, darling. I can hold my own. You, on the other hand, are in dire need of a fainting couch and smelling salts to calm your nerves.”

“That bad, huh,” Steve asked, resting his forehead against Tony’s.

“Worse,” Tony teased, squeezing his hands.

“Ugh, did you have to pick such a big fish to fry for your first time?” Steve murmured in a tired and truly scared voice.

“Go big or go home,” Tony declared.

“Are you ready to do this,” Steve asked, leading the way for them to give the crew a briefing on their target and have a final vote before setting sail.

“I just need coffee to get my brain up and running first,” Tony replied, gobbling up a couple of biscuits laid out on the desk and pouring a large of coffee for him to nurse and savor throughout his grand proposal, the likes of which he didn’t expect to return to so soon after his retirement.

“As you all must have figured out by now, this is the biggest prize we have ever gone after,” Steve began in a booming captain’s voice Tony had never heard before. “I’m not going to lie to you. This is a dangerous mission. The most perilous journey we could embark upon. But its high risk high reward.”

“Our target is Obadiah Stane,” Tony announced. “He used to be my father’s estate manager before he got mysteriously rich during the period my father was old and senile and I was too young to take over the business after his death. He then went out to become one of the earliest investors in the East India Company.” He took a sip of his coffee to gauge the reaction of his crew. They all seemed disappointed to receive an invitation to rich men’s quarrels.

“Sounds like you want to use us to steal back the money an old friend stole from you,” Natasha said, studying him underneath her scrutinizing gaze.

“On the contrary, I relinquish my share of the loot from Obadiah Stane’s ships full of luxury goods he has gambled his entire fortune on,” Tony replied. “Which is a lot. More money than you’ve ever seen. Even you two,” he said pointing at Thor and Natasha who had clearly seen their fair share.

“So, you just want to hurt this old friend,” Bucky asked, uncomfortably shifting from one leg to another.

“No, that’s not what this is about,” Steve interrupted.

Tony stopped him because this was his fight and their concerns were valid. “Stane has been my liaison with the East India Company, urging that they require weapons to protect their goods and money from pirates, looters, and criminals,” he explained because to some extent this was a personal vendetta for him, something he desperately needed closure for, and he didn’t wish to mislead the crew in any way. The only way to do this right was complete transparency. So, he had to be brutally honest about his motivations and then, and only then, make a case for how his motivations aligned with theirs. “Recently, Stane invited me to India to make a case for why I should invest in the company as well. I witnessed, firsthand, exactly how they do business, and the horrors my weapons empower them to commit for nothing but illegal and inhuman profiteering. I decided, no more. That is why a little _freak accident_ led to all my weapons and ammo stocked in their warehouses blowing up the night before I left for England.”

“You destroyed your weapons?” Steve asked, shocked and alarmed since Tony had never even alluded to the fact to anyone. But he must be honest with his crew if he was asking them to stake their lives on his claims.

“I can’t say that I did,” Tony shrugged. “Anyway, I closed down my weapons business, but there remains one last shipment which sits in Stane’s warehouse here, bound to be shipped off, in the fleet of merchant ships soon arriving with those luxury goods.”

Steve eyed him a touch of hesitation and said, “That is our prize. The ships and the goods they carry. The plan is for us to capitalize on stealth, our small numbers, the cover of night, the fact that most sailors would be too busy drinking and whoring the night they dock their ships on the port, and Wanda’s predictions of bad weather that night which I have a plan to use to our advantage.”

“But wouldn’t such a shipment be guarded by an army?” Fury asked.

“They are trying not to draw too much attention,” Tony smirked. This is what he was here for, to give them an edge over other pirates, with the kind of insider information that no pirate can piece together with the bits and pieces of gossip among sailors. “This is the ultimate pirate’s treasure. A dragon’s horde worth of wealth. This is worth my friend’s entire ill-begotten fortune. He decided not to hire an army to guard it because mercenaries drink and whore and spill secrets in taverns and brothels, not to mention, draw attention like an X marked upon a map, and when push comes to shove, no mercenary would actually die to protect their employer.”

“According to the information Tony and I have gathered so far,” Steve took over, “the ships are painted to come across as cheap and shabby and are setting sail alongside several slave ships. We do what we always do with the slave ships. We steal away with the merchant vessels. Move the goods. Refurbish the ships to join the Caribbean fleet. And divide the money among ourselves. So, how do you vote?”

“Just one thing,” Sam said, raising a finger before pointing it to Tony. “What does he plan on doing with those weapons in the warehouse?”

“I was hoping they would keep rotting in that warehouse after we steal the ships,” Steve said, less of an answer to Sam but more of a passive-aggressive comeback and a challenge for Tony.

“That…does not concern you,” Tony replied.

“The hell it does not,” Steve shot back.

“As this ship’s Chief Engineer, my sole duty is to get you to the destination, wait while you execute your plans, and bring you safely back home when we’re prepared to leave,” Tony reminded him. “What I do while waiting is nobody’s business, especially when I’m leading you to the greatest treasure you’ve ever seized and ask for no share of it.”

“Have you considered the possibility that you might end up captured or killed while _waiting_ ,” Natasha said, crossing her arms under her chest.

“Then, Scott here will bring you all home,” Tony said, pointing at his second with a grand gesture.

“Tony,” Steve scolded him, fear burning bright in his cold blue eyes.

“Wouldn’t happen,” Tony assured him with a callous wave of a hand. “Not my first rodeo and the last time I was on foreign land, working against people I was surrounded and outnumbered by, and acting alone with no crew or getaway pirate ship.

“You will jeopardize the mission on a scale hitherto undreamt of,” Strange said, emerging from the shadowy corner of the deck from where he had been quietly listening to everything. Tony sighed. Not this again. Why did this guy hate him so much for no reason? “This is why I will be your backup.”

“What?” Tony asked. Did he hear that correctly? Strange? Strange the surgeon, who had never exchanged two kind words with him wanted to team up with him for his personal side quest?

“As the ship’s surgeon, I never play an active role in seizing the prize,” Strange said. “So I volunteer to keep an eye on you and make sure you don’t screw it up for the rest of us.”

“Fine,” Tony said with a defeated sigh because he was certain this was the only way for the crew to agree to the plan. “You can be my lookout outside the warehouse.”

Steve eyed them with careful consideration before he asked for their final decision. After hammering out some of the fine details of their plan and a handful of compromises, they had a unanimous vote and the crew set out to work. Tony didn’t stop to talk to Steve. He would wait until he cools off with the mother henning. Instead, he set out to do his job and ordered around the crew to adjust the rigs and sails for the winds and tides they had to work with.

“How long before we will she be ready to set sail?” Steve asked, addressing him as his Chief Engineer for the first time.

“Give or take fifteen minutes, Captain,” Tony reported.

“Good, we must leave and be well beyond the horizon before sunrise,” Steve ordered. “We don’t want the spies of any of those pesky little local landowners association to even catch a glimpse.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” Tony teased, before yelling out his orders for the top-sails.

“And Tony,” Steve began, unamused, and quite solemn and serious. Tony instantly knew where this was going.

“Oh, look, Jarvis is finally done kissing Wanda goodbye,” Tony said, rushing after his butler. “I must go set our stories straight with him. Talk to you later, Steve.” He blew a kiss at his sour displeased lover for good measure. “Jarvis, wait,” he called out.

“Yes, sir,” Jarvis asked, not even looking at him but shooting a forlorn look at Wanda through him when he turned.

“How will you explain my sudden disappearance to the servants?” Tony asked.

“I intend to announce to the household that you had to leave for London on a business matter so urgent, you had no time to have a carriage prepared and left on horseback at sunrise. There is someone I trust to park one of the horses with during your absence.”

“You are a born deceiver,” Tony teased with a playful slap over his shoulder. “Take good care of the dogs in my absence.”

“I will, sir,” Jarvis assured him.

“And don’t overfeed Dummy. The only skill he ever managed to master was to beg like a starving street urchin even if his stomach is at the brink of exploding.”

“That mistake from my early days with them will never be repeated.” With that promise, Jarvis got off the ship to go hold the fort in his absence. “Bon voyage, sir.”

“Au Revoir, Jarvis,” Tony said with a little salute.

When he turned to return to his duties, Tony and Steve’s eyes met, and he knew, he just knew that something had fractured between them. His little lie by omission wedged itself where only trust was blooming until now. Steve now looked at him only as a cold and calculating captain. He once again, held Tony with his deafening silence and the contempt with which he first welcomed him onboard. There was nothing soft, tender, or loving left in his gaze. Only an order. And order to get back to work and not come wandering into the captain’s cabin anytime soon. For a moment, Tony wondered if he would truly have to spend the night below deck with the crew. Would he? Was Steve that mad at him? The prospect broke his heart a little bit. He ran a restless hand over the hilt of the sword dangling by his waist while its pair sat at his cruel lover’s hip. Steve pointed to false dawn tearing through the night sky to remind him of his deadline and ordered the crew raise the anchor and set sail. With a deep sigh and a heavy heart, Tony set out to work on safely guiding the ship through the treacherous and rocky shores that served as a cover for this beach caved into the cliff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning to abandon this fic due to the lack of response. Then, I got the idea for a pretty badass and beautiful ending, and I have atleast two readers who are invested in this story, so I'm pushing myself to get to the ending but I'm just not feeling it... no motivation... no juice.  
> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	12. Shards of Ice

Once they were out on the open sea and had smooth sailing with nothing much changing with regard to the winds and the tide, Tony inhaled a sharp breath and decided to bite the bullet. He needed to have an honest to god conversation with Steve. He had put it off long enough. If the only way to rescue his love was to walk right into the dragon’s lair, then he was somewhat prepared to do it. Yet, he stood outside the captain’s cabin with his fist hanging in mid-air, unable to knock on the door. No, he must. With that resolve, he managed a feeble knock. He could stand cocky little shit Steve and mother-hen Steve but he simply could not bear this cold and distant Steve. He had to fix this. He had to explain. He had to make him understand.

“Come in,” Steve said.

Tony wordlessly entered the room to find Steve painting the gold armor with a coat of red here and there. Ah! That put a smile on Tony’s face. “I see you’re still hell-bent upon preparing that over the top protective gear for me.”

Steve froze up at the sound of his voice. He didn’t turn. He didn’t reply. He didn’t even acknowledge his presence. He simply resumed his work with a little scoff and a shake of his head. “Oh no, you can walk into a warehouse stocked with weapons and commit arson, all by your lonesome, wearing nothing but lace and stockings and heels for all I care. You know”—he turned to glare at him with those icy blue eyes—“since you’re such an expert at stealth and deception.”

He simply stood there with his mouth agape until his cruel and now cold as an iceberg lover turned away to paint the armor. “Then why on earth are you painting that thing red?”

“I was stressed. I wanted to relax. The sketchbook and canvas didn’t cut it anymore. I craved a larger undertaking with something I could be rough with,” Steve said, knocking the helmet off the armor in irritation.

“Have you considered boxing? Throwing punches usually helps you relax. We could spar,” Tony offered.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea right now,” Steve replied between gritted teeth.

“Steve, I—”

“Just go,” Steve said, raising a hand to shut down the conversation. 

“Please,” Tony begged. “Talk to me. Just hear me out.”

“Fine,” Steve said, furiously wiping down his hands with a rag and tossing it away like it had committed a great offense. He sat proudly behind his desk like a captain about to scold a mutinous crew member. “You want to talk? Let’s talk.”

“Yeah, that’s what I came here for. Well, I’m not entirely sure why I came here. I didn’t really think this through,” Tony said, fidgeting with the armillary sphere and other such nautical contraptions decorating his desk. “I-I don’t know okay. I don’t understand what’s going on here,” he said, waving between them. “But I know that I want to fix it. The thing is…I thought I was coming here to apologize but I’m not.”

“You’re not here to apologize,” Steve asked, raising a sly brow.

“It goes without saying,” Tony said. “I know…I know I haven’t been entirely upfront with you. I don’t expect you to…. Okay, here’s what I’m trying to say.”

Steve cut him off once again with a dismissive wave of his hand and said, “If you say _I_ one more time, I just might take you up on your offer of sparring.”

Tony gulped.

“There is no _I_ in crew,” Steve yelled, banging his hands upon the desk to stand up and tower over him like a threatening storm.

“There is an _I_ in pirate crew,” Tony joked in a small unsure voice to diffuse the situation.

“Tony, just don’t,” Steve warned. “Weeks! We have been planning this mission for weeks! I have been burning the candle on both ends to go through your dossier and personal knowledge of Stane. You know why? Because you claimed to trust my authority and my experience on this.”

“I do,” Tony whispered like a schoolboy in the headmaster’s office.

“Clearly you don’t,” Steve spewed in an acidic tone. “If you had any respect for me, you would have been completely honest about your intentions instead of blowing holes in my plans with hidden agendas.”

“How does my thing affect your plans?” Tony asked.

“How? You ask me how? This is a team,” Steve stressed. “This is _my_ crew! It’s not a factory where you can assign work to your staff, and then tinker and plan, and do whatever you please in the free time. This is a company of free men, where everyone gets an equal say, where the captain’s vote holds the same value as the guy who scrubs the deck, where we only move forward after making unanimous decisions, and where everyone plays their role perfectly like the cogs of a well-oiled machine. That’s what a pirate crew is—we, us, and not a bunch of _I_ s running around half-cocked like your little landowners’ association. That’s why we are so successful at what we do. That is how we take whatever we want from the rich and powerful _I_ s of the world and get away with it.”

“Don’t patronize me like some spoilt rich brat,” Tony bellowed.

“Then stop acting like one,” Steve shot back.

“I am older than you by almost a decade, god damn it,” Tony said, stomping his foot.

“Well, I outrank you,” Steve reminded him.

“How?” Tony challenged him. “I’m a bloody Baron.”

“Maybe that means something on English soil,” Steve said, inching closer and glaring shards of ice at him. “You are on board a pirate ship now and here you are my Chief Engineer and I am your Captain.” With an angry huff, he once again turned his back on him to peer out the window and muttered, “Baron my ass.”

“Well, your ass is certainly not barren but covered in those tragic breeches that do nothing for your ass, oh captain my captain,” Tony teased in an overly subservient tone.

“No one asked you to look,” Steve said, still pissed off at him for his not-so-little lie.

Tony walked around the table to close the distance between them and reached out with a hand to make Steve just look at him, but he simply stood there like a marble statue, not even meeting his gaze. “Steve, please, I wasn’t trying to be deceptive. I know you take responsibility for your crew’s safety and well being and prefer to be in complete control of the situation. I just…I guess I just thought that _this_ was my fight and my fight alone.”

“And what did you plan to do when your fight and your fight alone would have taken us all unawares, blown our cover, drawn the entire town’s attention, and got us all killed?” Steve demanded.

“I’m not so reckless. My explosives wouldn’t go off until you stole away with the merchant fleet. If anything, the explosion would have served as a great distraction of us,” Tony said.

“Then wouldn’t it be in the crew’s best interest for me to include that very chaotic variable in my perfectly balanced equation,” Steve said, finally meeting his gaze. Oh, no. This was worse than Steve being cold and distant. He didn’t even think it could get any worse than that. It tore his heart asunder to witness all the hurt and betrayal which had been concealed behind the wall of ice until now. It was like a dam broke. An iceberg cracked. And the desolation that followed was far worse than anything he could have imagined.

He had to fix this. He had to. Tony leaned in with a desperate attempt to hug Steve and kiss his neck and wipe it all away and remind him of what they had. Steve’s hands remained in place, resolute and unforgiving. Tony’s every kiss was a prayer of forgiveness but all his prayers were left unanswered. Finally, he was put out of his misery when his cruel lover held him by his shoulders and put him at an arm’s length.

“Tony, I need you—”

“I need you too,” Tony blurted out.

“I need you to leave,” Steve said instead. “And take your bag with you. Being new to the crew, it’s crucial for you to share quarters with them to learn camaraderie and teamwork and forge close bonds.”

“Fine, I’ll go,” Tony grumbled, picking up what remained of his pride along with his bag and making a run for the door.

“Just one last thing,” Steve called out from behind. Tony refused to show the tears that blurred his vision now. “Do you even have a plan of attack?”

“I have a plan…attack,” Tony said as he shut the door behind him with a loud bang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a lot to Cybis, fantomfaire, and Dodo, your kind comments and knowing that you're all still invested in the story, really resurrected my motivation for writing it. Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	13. The Crew

Tony had a feeling the rest of the crew had heard them arguing, since they walked on eggshells around him all day, and whenever he made a request, no one whined or complained or said they would do it later, but promptly climbed even onto the highest parts of the structure to make any and every adjustment to the rigging and the positioning of the sails that he thought would help them capitalize on the winds for maximum speed. He didn’t take his bag below deck. It wasn’t because he harbored any illusions of Steve taking him back. He was simply too ashamed to show face at the crew’s quarter. What if they had questions? How would he even begin to address them? Be honest or feed them the excuse of building camaraderie? Though, beginning their cohabitation with dishonesty might impede all the teambuilding his captain, who outranked him here, charged him with as a punishment for his lack of honesty which created this whole mess in the first place.

He neither joined the captain and the crew for lunch nor for dinner. Though, Thor did come and join him where he sat brooding all alone in a corner, not bothered by his silence in the least, but happy to fill it with sensational tales of his exceptionally melodramatic family. How did he grow up in such a violent and treacherous environment and still manage to turn out a literal ray of sunshine with a cheerful disposition to match Tony’s memories of his dogs’ early days as little pups? It served as a welcome distraction and certainly lifted his mood by the time they were done with dinner.

Tony gathered up his bag and marched down below deck. He would not break. He would not show weakness. This was perfectly normal. This was where the crew slept and he was a part of the crew now. And he didn’t care about Steve and his stupid cozy comfortable cabin. This was much better. Even from afar, he could hear them laughing and singing and playing musical instruments down there. He took a deep breath. It was going to be okay. No one would ask any weird questions. No. No weird questions at all.

“Ah, I see you’re also in the doghouse tonight,” Bucky said, slapping him with a towel the instant he entered the enormous quarters with several rows of hammocks hanging for the crew to sleep.

“What? What doghouse,” Tony mumbled, grasping at his scattered wits.

“Awoo,” Bucky turned up his head and began howling.

“Shut the hell up,” Sam yelled out from the very opposite end of the quarters.

“Make me,” Bucky yelled back. He turned to Tony with a little punch, which didn’t feel so little coming from his metal arm. “Eh, trouble in paradise? You’ll get used to it. I’m sure it feels like the end of the world now that it’s all so new. But trust me, when you’ve been together for as long as we have, it’s a welcome change to drop the old ball and chain once in a while,” he said, raising his voice towards the end to torment Sam.

“What the hell did you just call me?” Sam asked from afar.

“Ball and chain,” Bucky replied. “And I say that as someone who fully comprehends what it means after being tortured in prison and having a literal ball and chain weighing me down.”

“You know, you can go fuck yourself,” Sam shouted.

“Come fuck me yourself you coward,” Bucky shouted back.

“Keep dreaming,” Sam scoffed, getting back to playing cards with the cook and ship-hands.

“Then the least you could do is give me your signature silent treatment so I can have some peace of mind,” Bucky shot back. Cheers, claps, and foot-stomping erupted throughout the room. Sam shot him a look far too familiar to Steve’s deadly cold eyes, but unlike Tony, Bucky remained unbothered and in great spirits.

Thor walked by them carrying Bruce on his back like a sack of potatoes, while the usually gentle apothecary threatened to unleash unimaginable wrath upon him if he wasn’t put down immediately. Natasha packed her things and left with an aristocratic air, muttering about trading this abominable pigsty to go sleep in Hawkeye’s nest atop the ship. Fury entertained everyone with a comedic battle of wits with his parrot. Scott and Strange were having some sort of a dance-off. And Wanda lay in her hammock crying miserably. How truly chaotic!

“Hey, what happened? Why are you crying?” Tony asked, trying to soothe her.

“I miss Jarvis,” Wanda sobbed.

“I miss Jarvis too,” Tony sighed, since he understood her pain, even though they were separated from their lovers for very different reasons. Also, he did miss his butler and his lovely banter so very much. “Would it make you feel better to look at a hand-written note from Jarvis?”

“Yes,” Wanda instantly replied.

“It’s only instructions for his pouch of medicines,” Tony said, digging out the pouch from his rucksack, but before he could even open it to retrieve the note, she snatched the entire pouch from him.

“His medicines,” Wanda cried, hugging the pouch close to her chest. “Oh, how he couldn’t survive an hour at sea without them.”

“I hope that cheers you up,” Tony said awkwardly. “But please, return them to me once you’re done. I have a running wager with the captain over not getting sea-sick during this voyage.”

“You won’t need them,” Wanda said with a creepy all knowing smile. “Not even when the hurlyburly is done and the wager lost and won.” Tony shook his head because what the hell did that even mean? Witches! They could never give a straight answer.

“Here, hold my hand,” Bucky ordered. Okay, weird request, but he was sure the man had his reasons. Tony absentmindedly reached out for him with an outstretched hand. Then Bucky…Bucky outright handed Tony his entire metal arm to change his shirt. Tony stood there shell shocked. While everyone else around him got a good laugh out of his astonishment, and he simply could not comprehend this man, then again, maybe his life experiences had led him to develop this dark sense of humor.

“Umm…do you need help putting it back on?” Tony offered most politely.

“What use do I have for it now? Its bedtime,” Bucky asked, tilting his as if meditating upon the possibilities. “Although”—he stretched out the word for all its worth—“we could test out your skills with Stevie’s sword hanging upon your hip.” Ah, how he missed Stevie’s sword in the general vicinity of his hips at night. Bucky snapped his fingers to draw his attention back to reality. “If the prospect scares you so much,” he said, clearly mistaking his fantasizing for fear, “I’ll level the plain field by fighting with just my metal arm while keeping the other one safely tucked inside my pocket.”

“Don’t you think that would unfair to you,” Tony protested.

Bucky flashed an incredibly cocky smile in response to that. “Come on, let’s test out your improvements,” he said, wearing the prosthetic arm once again and releasing out all the blades, claws, and spikes Tony had installed into it on Bucky’s request.

Fearing his own creation, Tony drew his new sword and tested it out with a little clank against the metal arm.

“Really? Two whole hands and that’s how you choose to start a fight,” Bucky teased, slashing at him.

Tony staggered back at first but then he realized this was Steve’s best friend, and instead of going easy on the guy, he should be bringing his A-game to impress him. So, he did. He attacked and ducked using every trick in his arsenal. Their little dance led them all around the room and soon the crew started gambling on who would win.

“So,” Bucky asked with a slash that took him by surprise, “did you apologize and Stevie is the one being stubborn or are you the one refusing to apologize?”

“A bit of both, I guess,” Tony said, ducking to evade the attack which had one of the blades in the metal arm jamming into the wooden beam above him, sending splinters flying, and giving him the perfect opening strike with the sword’s handle. “I didn’t really apologize and he wasn’t really in the forgiving mood.”

“You two need to work this out before we get there,” Bucky said, freeing his metal arm from the wooden beam and the other one from his pocket.

“Hey, I thought you were fighting with just one hand,” Tony protested.

“You should take it as a compliment that I consider you a worthy opponent after testing the waters,” Bucky shot back.

“Why should I be the one to apologize and grovel at the mighty captain’s feet?” Tony asked because he truly was pissed by how he was kicked out when he at least made the attempt to fix things.

“Tony”—Bucky said, taking a break from the duel for a moment—“You do realize that if you would have pulled that lone gunslinger stunt in the middle of the mission with no warning whatsoever then that would have been the end of your relationship?”

“What?” Tony asked, truly flabbergasted, which the bastard used as an opening to attack.

“Why else do you think we helped put two and two together and brought it up right in the beginning?” Sam asked, now that Tony was lying on the floor not far from where he sat playing cards.

“It’s crucial for the success of the mission and what you two have to work it out during this voyage,” Bucky spelled it out for him.

“Steve would leave me for destroying my own weapons?” Tony asked, more confused than ever.

“No, he would be all for it, if he was aware of your plans,” Sam said, frustrated like a governess unable to get it through to a child why two plus two made four.

“Yeah, he’s very anal about his planning and strategizing,” Bucky chuckled, offering Tony a hand to get back up and fight him, which he took his time doing since he could really use a breather. “If you kept him in the loop, trust me, that’s the most romantic thing you could have done for the guy, but now he probably views your secrecy as sabotage and betrayal, and again, trust me, its worst than him finding you in bed with someone else from his perspective.”

“That bad,” Tony asked. Okay. Now, he understood how he screwed up, especially with that non-apology and argument they just hand.

Bucky slapped one of the compartments on his metal hand, from which a knife came flying out. He caught it in mid-air. Then, put it to Tony’s throat. “Hah, I win.”

“Well played,” Tony said with a respectful nod.

“You too,” Bucky said with a slap on his arm.

“I disagree,” Sam said, joining them as he rummaged something from a bag hanging over a nearby hammock. “I lost my cannibal teeth in this bet because you got distracted by love and let his punk ass beat you.”

“I’m sorry…your what?” Tony asked because just when he thought this day couldn’t screw with his mind anymore…this happens.

“My new cannibal teeth,” Sam said, holding up a set of false fangs before inserting them into his mouth. “Look how terrifying they are,” he mumbled through them.

“And…and what do you do with them?” Tony asked a little scared to find out the answer.

“He doesn’t eat people with them if that’s what you’re afraid of,” Bucky whispered from behind him but it was more of a stage whisper. “All bark no bite. They are just for show.”

“I’ll show you, come here,” Sam said, chasing after Bucky with a threat to bite.

“Wait,” Tony said, getting in between them to break it up. “Why, though? I don’t get it. I thought Hammer was simply being a pompous fool when he accused you of cannibalism.”

Sam began to laugh uncontrollably. “Ha,” he said, feeling exhilarated and victorious, “I see the gossip has made it all the way to the fine folks of Cornwall. If you had put half the effort into your white wolf thing, then you would be famous too,” he boasted to Bucky. “That’s your problem. You don’t fucking commit. It was the same with your old winter soldier shtick.”

“Well, I had to wear too much eye makeup for it and ended up looking like a raccoon most of the time,” Bucky argued. “And what do you want me to do with the white wolf thing? Grow fur?”

“Excuses, excuses,” Sam said with an unimpressed shake of his head.

“Why are you pleased about such a horrible rumor?” Tony asked Sam.

“Because I started it,” Sam replied.

“Why?”

“Someone once called me a cannibal because I’m black,” Sam said, bringing attention to his appearance. “Some of my crew members didn’t take well to the accusation and wished to set the record straight. But I thought, wait, I could use this. So, I boasted that I’m not just any lowly regular cannibal who would eat any part of any person’s body. I prefer to carve out the hearts of those who dare challenge me and devour them raw and bloody right in front of their eyes while they draw their last breath. Now, when I raise the black and ships recognize the symbol of the flacon, and no one dares to challenge me. Smooth surrenders.”

“I once told him to eat a dick right in the middle of seizing a prize,” Bucky said with a hearty laugh. “Oh, you should have seen the look on the captain’s face.”

“You’ll see it for yourself soon enough,” Sam promised. “I’ve got the claws, feathers, makeup, everything to leave them too shell shocked and frozen to fight back when we attack. Do you have a thing?”

“I have a sword,” Tony said.

“You need a thing, man,” Sam said before consoling him with a slap on his back. “Don’t worry we’ll figure out something to make you more terrifying.”

“Hey, I am terrifying,” Tony said, doing his best to appear so.

“Yeah, I’m trembling in fear of those doe eyes and ringlet curls,” Bucky teased.

“You know, just for that comment, I won’t going so easy on you next time we spar,” Tony challenged.

“Bring it on, doe eyes!”

“I remember a time when you used to say things like that to me,” Sam complained.

Bucky leaned against a wooden pillar and said, “I still think the beauty of those big eyes and high cheekbones is unparalleled, not to mention your enormous co—”

Sam said a hand to shut him up and said, “You just had to take it one step further and make it weird, didn’t you?”

Across the room, Fury stood upon a table, and shouted, “As your quartermaster, I beg you monsters to please go to bed now.”

“Yes, Mother,” Bucky called out before they all began to make their beds.

“And Tony,” Sam said, “You take the hammock between the two of us so Bucky doesn’t get any ideas.”

As someone who had been forewarned by Steve of how things fluctuated between hot and cold between these two, he was a bit uncomfortable to literally get in the middle of it, but on the other hand, he also wanted to get along with the crew and make them like him. So, he took his post as the disgruntled child of a broken home. Though, it accomplished nothing. He woke up in the morning with a handkerchief on his face, Bucky’s hammock empty, and when he turned, he found the man buck naked and sleeping on top of Sam, who was also completely nude down there, only covered and made decent—if one can even call it that—by Bucky’s form covering him like a blanket. They seemed so peaceful and in love for the first time. Ugh. Tony was utterly disgusted by the sight of people in love getting laid when his own love life was in shambles. Also, all those weird dreams of wild boars fighting and grunting from last night suddenly made a lot more sense now. 

Grumbling and muttering, Tony left to freshen up and check up on their course and speed before breakfast, only to observe that the ship was heading a bit off course by a few degrees and the topgallant sail on the foremast needed readjustment.

“May I,” Tony asked Thor, who stood at the great wheel, and relieved him of his duties as the helmsman this morning. “Scott,” he yelled as he saw his second in command eagerly making his way to have breakfast.

Scott turned with a defeated sigh. “What now?”

“I need you on the topgallant,” Tony said, without even looking up from his compass as he wrestled with the helm to get the ship right back on course.

“I haven’t even had breakfast yet,” Scott whined.

“Neither have I. You don’t see me complaining,” Tony shot back. “Or are his majesty’s meals more important than ensuring we don’t steer away from our path, adding at least two hours to the journey.”

“Fine,” Scott said, already climbing the structure to do his duty.

Ah! The ship was back on course now. Tony stood at the wheel with its spokes in his hands, in awe of the movement of the hull and the surge of the vessel as she surged upon the sea, while a pod of dolphins raced with her speed. The wind whistled and hummed against the sails. He could feel the sea breeze on the back of his head. He didn’t gather up and tie his hair but reveled in the feeling. With even greater pleasure, he watched Scott try and tame the topgallant all on his own while it pulled and strained against the ropes like a living thing. There was a beauty and simplicity to this life. He did this. As he stood there with the helm in hand and the sails at his back, he was filled with a sense of awe and wonder. His calculations brought this mighty beast to life like the ship was his body and he its mind.

When Thor returned from breakfast and offered to take back the wheel, Tony turned back to find Steve staring at him from across the deck, where he stood gripping the railing in front of the captain’s cabin. He didn’t seem like he had slept all too well either. A part of him felt guilty for it but a part of him rejoiced in discovering their heartache was shared. Tony swallowed his pride. With his hands joined in prayer and a pitiful pout upon his lips, he begged for forgiveness.

Steve turned and walked away. Tony’s gaze drooped in desolation and defeat as he was left starving for love, forgiveness, and food. Since he could only change one of those things, he left to go find breakfast.

Tony made it halfway to the kitchen when Wanda came rushing after him to inform him the captain invited him to come and join him for breakfast upon the top deck. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Positive,” Wanda replied with a mischievous smile like she was either playing a prank on him or his cruel lover’s sudden change of heart was somehow her doing.

“Okay. Thanks,” Tony said before he rushed off to the top deck only to slow down and school his expressions so as to not look too eager when he climbed the last few steps.

Steve greeted him with a surprisingly sweet and welcoming smile that didn’t radiate a lover’s invitation but a captain’s professional courtesy. Tony should feel glad. But it only made him feel like more of a nervous and miserable wretch. What was going on?

“Have a seat, Tony,” Steve said, pulling a chair for him. He patiently waited with the back of the chair in hand, until Tony gingerly closed the distance between them and took a seat. “Here”—he poured coffee into a cup—“I had the cook prepare it exactly as you prefer it. Same coffee beans.”

“Uh…thanks,” Tony said in a small unsure voice as he took his cup, and yes, oh god yes, it was indeed the lovely brew he loved with all his heart. “Cap…I’m sorry, Captain—”

“Cap is fine too,” Steve said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It has a nice ring to it.”

“Let me just say that I finally see the error of my ways,” Tony quickly blurted out. “It was wrong of me to keep things from you. I understand that I can’t harbor personal vendettas in the midst of the most dangerous operation the Avengers have ever undertaken. It was reckless, foolhardy, and shortsighted. And…I’m sorry,” he said, drawing breath at last.

Steve, who sat there, resting his chin upon his knuckles with an amused look on his face, throughout the ordeal, replied to that with, “I don’t need an apology.”

“You don’t?” Tony asked more confused than ever. God, he could build the most unimaginable machines and run a ship but his mind was simply not wired to navigate love.

“Once I slept on it, I could see that anger and resentment are pointless right now,” Steve began piling eggs, bacon, mushrooms, black pudding, and buttered toast on both their plates.

“Resentment is corrosive,” Tony agreed, watching his plate, wondering if Steve was once again mother-henning him with a heavier breakfast than what he usually took or if this was a ploy to win their wager by aiding his sea-sickness. In either case, the joke’s on him, because Tony was starving.

“The only thing that matters now is to move forward and prepare for tonight’s attack,” Steve said most pragmatically with all his focus on the movement of his fork and knife and absolutely none on Tony. “I see that I can depend on you as an Engineer,” he said, waving in the general direction of the helm and the sails. “I need to know if I can rely on you as a crewmember.”

“Absolutely,” Tony said at once.

“Good,” Steve said.

“And what about…what about us,” Tony asked, playing with his food, stressed over what Bucky warned of the possibility of his plan being the end their relationship if not exposed early on.

“That is a conversation for another day when we have peace, leisure, and the luxury of time,” Steve said matter-of-factly. Tony realized he was—as Bucky put it so crudely—still in the doghouse. “As for the problem at hand, it was born of miscommunication and only one thing can fix it. Tell me exactly what happened on your last day in India. Spare no detail. I also need to know exactly what you planned on doing tonight. None of those ‘I have a plan…attack’ clever remarks but the honest to god truth even if you only had the faintest idea and planned on figuring it out on the go. I understand why you need to do this, Tony, but you don't have to do this alone. If you talk to me, I can inform you of the biggest hurdle you will face tonight, that only Wanda and I are aware of, and we can put our heads together to figure out a way around it, while I decide how to use your little side quest as a distraction and advantage for us all. Deal?”

“Deal,” Tony said, offering a hand to shake on it because he was far too touch starved and even that prolonged handshake set off a spark he felt down to his very bones. “I’m going to fix this,” he promised, not just talking about the mission, “However long it takes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG I never thought I would regain the writing speed for posting another chapter the very next day but thanks to ALL THESE LOVELY COMMENTS from Lovesick23, Dodo, Cybis, SpazkittyX3, tae_se0k, and Beepbeepboopboop...I just feel so validated like a prate who had stumbled upon the treasure! Thanks for the juice guys. I whipped this chapter up high on these comments all thanks to you guys. I love you. And thanks, Lovesick23 for your suggestion on handling this conflict after the last chapter. Its still not fully resolved but the boys are getting there.  
> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	14. Cold Feet

Tony woke up in a comfortable bed, practically swaddled in a warm blanket, feeling quite confused and disoriented. What was going on? The rocking of the room and the wooden interiors made him wonder where he was? This wasn’t home. He turned to his side, and holy mother of god, a red and gold armor was standing guard over him. Tony flew back to the opposite side of the bed with a hand over his hammering heart.

Steve and Tony had spent all morning and afternoon, working through every detail of the plan with a fine-tooth comb, something Steve loved far too much and Tony far too little. Tony preferred spontaneity. Still, he wanted to work things out with Steve. And, work out he did. Though, somewhere after lunch, all that boredom caught up with him; maybe it was the gentle lulling of the waves, or the belly full of warm food, or spending a good chunk of his day planning and strategizing, but at some point, he must have simply dozed off. He ran a hand over the empty side of the large bed and let out a tragic sigh. Oh, if only he had taken the scenic route back into his lover’s bed, though he could have sworn he felt those loving fingers brush his cheek and rake through his hair while he was asleep. Or was that just wishful thinking manifesting into a dream?

He shook his head and got out of bed when he finally noticed it was dark outside. Damn! How long was he out? Had he slept through the entire mission? No. According to the clock in the captain’s cabin, it was only seven. He rushed onto the deck to find Steve at the helm, while the crew climbed the rigging like monkeys to work the great topsail before it sagged and fell into folds.

“What are you doing?” Tony asked.

“When a ship comes in sight of land, the topsail is the first thing they spot,” Steve replied, pointing at the blur of the coast upon the horizon.

“But we will lose speed,” Tony thought out loud.

“We can afford to lose speed, we’re almost there and they are not sound asleep in their beds,” Steve shrugged. “You did a great job getting us here before time, but now, we must wait.” He then ordered the crew, “Get the ship stealthily by those cliffs upon the fringe of that little bay.”

Tony looked to the coast, his heart beating with a strange excitement, seized by a spirit of adventure as the white stretches of sand turned to shadowy grey in the gathering dusk. There was something else in the eerie stillness. A haunting of coming unwittingly to a land asleep whose dwellers lay under a spell. This discreet little cargo port, on the opposite side of Cornwall, his own county, was now a hostile enemy territory he stole into as a pirate. His gaze cruised over the crew that stood motionless and silent upon the deck. For the first time since he set out on this adventure, he felt a prick of misgiving.

He was Tony Stark, a respectable Baron, landowner, businessman, inventor, and the star of his majesty’s court. What madness had possessed him to throw his lot with a pack of pirates and outlaws, led by a man he loved beyond reason but who might never return his feelings? What if this well laid out plan failed? What if they all get captured and dragged to the king’s court to be brought to justice? It wouldn’t be long before his identity is established. The news would spread like wildfire. Oh, the horror, the shame, and the scandal of it all. They would laugh at his madness for throwing away his fortune under the guise of philanthropy only to return as the prodigal son, a thief, a criminal, being dragged to the gallows to be hanged. Happy would never recover from the heartache. Rhodey’s newfound reputation and great work would be forever tarnished by his association with Tony. Pepper! It was she whose wrath he feared the most. Pepper would certainly kill him if they didn’t hang him first, but it was the prospect of being found out by her and coming face to face with the look of crippling disappointment on her face, which scared him more than death itself.

He looked up and saw Steve standing in front of him, with a look of concern on his beautiful face, for Tony’s breathing had grown erratic, his legs weak, and his hands were trembling. Without a word, Steve took Tony’s hand in his and led him back to the captain’s cabin, and he followed like a pupil about to receive chastisement from his headmaster. The room was quite dark now with only two feeble candles burning upon the desk. Tony stood uncomfortably with his hands behind his back while Steve sat at the edge of the desk studying him.

“Have you brought me here for a scolding?” Tony asked, impatient, frustrated, and at his wits end about being at odds with his cruel lover right from the beginning of this wretched journey, with no escape, only marinating in this misery, cooped up in these suffocating close quarters.

“No,” Steve assured him with that familiar kindness from their life on land which he had almost forgotten by now.

“To punish me then,” Tony challenged.

“No,” Steve scoffed.

“Then why the hell did you bring me here?” Tony asked. He didn’t simply mean the captain’s cabin. All the resentment buried deep within his heart meant the voyage itself.

Steve stood up from the desk to go retrieve a bottle of wine and a glass from the bulkhead. “It is always unwise to be broken into piracy with cold feet and a heavy heart,” Steve said, pouring him a generous serving of wine. “Here, you could use some liquid courage right now.”

“Umm…thanks,” Tony said, surprised by the thoughtful gesture.

“Scold, punish,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “What did you think? That I was going to put you on my knee and spank you raw for being human?”

It wasn’t deliberate. Maybe it was the recent lack of attention and affection, maybe it was the imagery the question evoked in his mind, but Tony’s cock grew hard at once and tented underneath these tight course breeches. He moaned from the chafing and discomfort.

“Tony,” Steve chastised him, mistaking his moan and erection for an invitation.

“I-I’m sorry,” Tony muttered, turning away and burying his face into his wine glass.

“Come here,” Steve said, taking his hand once again to lead them to his chair. Steve sat down, while Tony stood leaning against the desk, unable to decipher what the hell was going on right now. Then, his cruel lover began to unlace his breeches.

Tony shook his head in confusion. “W-what are you doing? I thought things were still tense between us even though you no longer begrudge me. Are we…are we fine?” he asked, hoping for the best, but prepared for the worst.

“I can’t say that we are,” Steve said, hauling out Tony’s dick rather roughly in a way that left him incapable of rational thought.

“Then what…” Tony moaned gathering up some semblance of his scattered mind.

“Shh,” Steve said, almost blowing upon Tony’s cock as he shushed him. “This will help take the edge off. Drink your wine and let me do this,” Steve ordered in a way that always made his body far more obedient and yielding to his cruel lover than it had ever been to him. Tony squeezed his eyes shut as Steve’s lips wrapped around his cock, and began wantonly circling its head and teasing its tip and licking the base. Ah, only Steve could have him literally by the balls like this.

“Oh…oh how I’ve missed this…how I’ve missed you,” Tony moaned, raking his free hand through Steve’s hair, tugging at it a bit rough in his resentment as he sipped on his wine.

Steve toyed with his balls and swallowed him whole, the head of his cock deep down his lover’s throat. Tony let out a loud cry. Steve didn’t give him a moment to rest and drew even louder cries as he relentlessly moved upon his cock, withdrawing all the way, almost threatening to leave him unsatisfied, and then devouring it all the to the back of his throat, with his tongue pressed to the base, squeezing the cock as tightly inside the mouth as humanly possible, and oh, oh my god, this was heaven, this must be paradise.

Tony downed what remained of his drink and buried both his hands into his lover’s hair. He could no longer bear the teasing. He demanded satisfaction. Tony pounded his cock into Steve’s mouth, no one passively rejoicing in the pleasures his cruel lover bestowed upon him with such dexterity and care, but using his mouth and staking a claim upon his proud and unforgiving man.

“Forgive me, Steve,” he moaned.

Steve shot him a look assuring him that it was fine with him but it wasn’t the manhandling of his mouth he pleaded forgiveness for but all which had passed between them in the last two days. Tony gazed into those beautiful blue eyes, shining in the flickering candle-light, once again looking up to him as a lover. It was that look that did it. He fell apart offering his cruel lover his heart, his soul, and his seed.

For a fraction of a moment, it was like a fog had lifted and he could see clearly for the first time in his life, completely divorced of his anxieties, doubts, and fears. Nothing mattered. Nothing at all. Not even the possibility that he had lost Steve forever. All that mattered was that he loved this man with all his heart, and tonight, he was going to remove the final thorn in his side, which had haunted him since the day he witnessed what his weapons were being used for. Even if they were caught and brought to justice and hanged side by side, it would be all worth it, for he would go out having tasted vindication, adventure, and true love.

Steve wiped his mouth with his sleeve and asked, “How do you feel now?”

“Better,” Tony smirked.

“We’re almost there,” Steve said, pointing out the window. “Are you ready to follow me out there or do you still need a moment alone?”

“Call it, Cap,” Tony replied. “I’m ready to follow you through the gates of hell if you asked.”

“I would rather risk capture than ask that of you,” Steve said, brushing a thumb over Tony’s cheek in that old loving way which felt like it belonged to another life now, a life which they had both left behind when their ship set sail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let it never be said that I let you all go too long without smut simply for the sake of drama. Even during a fight they are who they are lol. Thanks for all the comments you guys pay me in, tae_se0k, Dodo, and Beepbeepboopboop. Also, if you sense ominous foreshadowing for future drama, rest assured, I have tagged this fic with angst with happy ending.  
> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	15. Night of Error

The town was engulfed and darkness and eerie silence by the time Natasha, Clint, and the other scouts returned with good news. The majority of the merchant fleet’s crew lay passed out in brothels or the gutters outside the taverns, since tonight’s mead was successfully spiked with a sleeping potion brewed by Bruce. Anyone who got drunk tonight would not be waking up until tomorrow afternoon come hell or high water. The good citizens of the town were abed as well. The few left behind to remain sober and guard the ships would soon be dealt with.

All the small boats were lowered for the crew to stealthily make their way to the rocky beach nearby. The captain jumped in last and squeezed in between Tony and Scott, who was sadly also tagging along for the revised version of the plan hammered out this morning. Intimacy and closeness with his cruel lover without any real intimacy was far too new, distracting, and confusing right now, so Tony leaned away from where he sat pressed against Steve, and dipped his hand into the dark waters, whose phosphorescence gleamed like a shower of stars in the darkness. He played with it until the very moment the tip of their boat rammed into the pebbles scattered upon the beach. Tony was first to jump out with a loud crunch. But his lack of sneakiness was forgiven and mistaken for his eagerness to help pull the boat in.

He stood there upon the beach, craning his neck to get a good look at the cliff, which was a lot taller up close. Oh, how he regretted his hubris for thinking he could scale it with ease despite having no prior experience. His crew members, on the other hand, were already halfway there like a bunch of mountain goats with no fear or regard for gravity.

“Don’t worry. The first party will soon throw the ropes for us,” Steve said, manifesting beside him all of a sudden.

“That would certainly make things easy,” Tony sighed. And sure enough, ropes came unfurling upon the face of the cliff.

“Go ahead,” Steve said, gesturing at the nearest rope. Tony looked from the rope to Steve in confusion as he was well aware he would be the slowest among the crew and didn’t wish to hold back the captain for something as futile as common courtesy. Mistaking his pause for fear, Steve assured him, “I’ll be right behind you.”

“I just,” Tony said, awkwardly pointing to the rope. “I don’t want to slow you down.”

“And I don’t wish for you to climb without someone to have your back,” Steve said, pressing a hand to the small of his back, urging him towards the rope. “This is your first time.”

There was no point wasting time in debating it. Tony took a deep breath to gather some resolve, and set out to climb the cliff, grasping and struggling with any and every foothold and handhold within reach, when he realized the rope was nice and well for support, but there was no way he could pull his entire weight upon the rope alone. He could do this. This wasn’t so hard. He could…. Tony misjudged of the sturdiness of the foothold he had chosen and slipped. And oh god, oh, he tried to grab the rope with both hands.

Steve held him up by the ass to steady him before crawling up behind him. Tony was trapped between the cliff and Steve’s hard chest, before a strong arm wrapped around him, taking him almost in an embrace. “Are you alright?” Steve whispered into his ear, sending a shiver up his spine, and his skin buzzing with electricity.

Tony nodded.

“Go on. You’re doing great. We’re almost there,” Steve said, pushing him back up there, and it didn’t help that his cruel lover’s idea of doing so involved groping his ass once again. Oh, this would have been such fun and fodder for banter if things were fine between them. Now, it was plain torture.

Once they made it to the top of the cliff, they trotted through knee-high ferns, making their way downhill. The crew fanned out so no one could spot a large horde approaching from atop the cliff but Tony stayed close to Steve, following him like a shadow, as they made their descent to a narrow strip of beach. This was the creek that led to the harbor and the town beyond. If they had come to this place for legitimate reasons, they could have taken this route to enter the port, but alas, they were pirates, and the legitimate route was guarded by two towers and chain strung over the water to bar the way. Thus, _The Avenger_ stood anchored and concealed behind the cliff, while they invaded the harbor on foot.

Here they parted ways. Steve’s earlier plan involved a sneak attack upon the towers and forcing the chain down. Though, this morning, Tony simply mentioned how he could sabotage the chain from underneath the towers, without them having to rouse the guards. After doing the math, he came to the conclusion, he could only get it a few feet underwater, which would work for a small boat passing over it, but pointless for a merchant ship loaded with cargo, whose hull submerges a lot deeper underwater. It would be impossible to steal away with even one ship, let alone an entire fleet.

Still, Steve practically exploded out of his chair after hearing the _good news_ and paid no heed to the bad. He convinced Tony to tag along with them to do it anyway. Ugh. He would do his very best but he had no faith in his idea. The only reason he even agreed to it was because it was so refreshing to regain his lover’s faith and belief in him. He simply didn’t have the heart to question that faith. Was it pathetic? Yes. But Steve must have his reasons for believing this would work. Surely, he wasn’t so blinded by love that he couldn’t see how this chain could ruin everything for his plan. Tony scoffed. Wait. What if he was? No, it couldn’t be. Steve was more sensible than that. Wasn’t he? He couldn’t dwell upon all that. Steve asked him to do one thing and he was surely capable of following one order without questioning it.

Tony gestured to Scott to swim across the creek and take the other tower, while he made his way to the one closest to him. Hmm, odd. Scott must be a strong swimmer for he made it to his post before Tony walked up to his. Shaking his head in disbelief, he set about his work. Every now and then, he would catch a glimpse of the crew inching closer to the harbor and sneaking onboard Obi’s merchant and slave ships.

He did his very best but there was only so far he could lower the chain. He then jammed the pulleys to ensure that whatever contraptions, the guards stationed upon the tower used to move the chain, would be rendered incapable of raising the chain when they are inevitably spotted leaving with the treasure. Tony looked up to search for Scott on the opposite shore. Where was he?

“Hey, I did what you asked me to do,” Scott said, sneaking up behind him with his shirt and kilt soaking wet. What the…? Had Tony been so distracted by the crew that his second-in-command wrapped up long before him or did he swim back here at a superhuman speed?

“How did you get here so fast?”

“Umm… I thought you knew I was a far more superior swimmer and that’s why you assigned me the tower on the opposite shore,” Scott said, tilting his head in confusion.

Tony sniffed at Scott and asked, “And why do you always smell so fishy?”

“How rude,” Scott chastised him. “I’ve been swimming. That’s why. How would you feel if I asked you why you’re so…so…so human,” he mumbled, settling for the worst possible insult when he couldn’t sniff anything else on Tony.

“Fine, I guess,” Tony shrugged.

“Come, let’s go tell the captain we’re done here,” Scott said, jerking his head towards the harbor. “We’re so done here. Human,” he muttered under his breath.

“You’re repeating yourself, you know that? You’re repeating yourself,” Tony teased.

“You’re repeating yourself,” Scott shot back. “You’re repeating yourself!”

When they trekked up there, Hawkeye swung by, pointing them in the direction of the ship where they would find the captain. They slipped below deck to find the ship’s crew knocked out and tied up in a corner while Fury gave a rousing speech about freedom and liberty and revenge to the slaves onboard. He wrapped up his speech with a simple choice—all those who wanted to return home, could take a ship or two with them, and all those who wanted revenge, could join his crew as free men. There were some new faces in the crowd. Steve had mentioned the possibility of the Caribbean crew joining them for the mission, since they needed more numbers to put prize crews onboard the ships they planned on stealing. That would certainly not be an issue with the present and swelling numbers of Fury’s crew.

Steve pulled Tony to the staircase leading up to the deck and asked, “Is it done?”

“I did my best, Steve,” Tony said, cast down and disheartened, “But it would only go so low. It will not be enough. I’m telling you, it is not deep enough underwater for a ship to pass over it.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” Steve said with a far too cocky, pleased, and all-knowing smile. “Let me worry about how to move the ships once we’re dealt with the men onboard. You worry about what you came here to do.” With that, he raised his head and looked to the sky, scrutinizing it with an unreadable frown.

“What is it?” Tony asked.

“Nothing,” Steve replied with a shake of his head, “Just keeping an eye out for the weather.” He hesitated a bit before asking, “Would it be too much of an imposition to ask you to return to _The Avenger_?”

“Why?” Tony demanded because if this was some last attempt to talk him out of his plan, and convince him remain safely tucked in bed throughout the mission, then he wouldn’t have it.

“There are a lot of sickly and wounded people here,” Steve replied. “It’s a lot worse than what we usually come across, which is why we’re going after the slave ships before the merchant vessels. Strange is far too overwhelmed to join you for the perimeter sweep of the warehouse.”

“And as a surgeon, I simply don’t have the skillset to diagnose and cure some of these issues,” Strange added, walking in on their conversation. “You have to go fetch Bruce and give him this.” He handed out a piece of paper with undecipherable gibberish scribbled upon it. “Once the apothecary is here to look after these people, I’ll be free to join you.”

“You don’t have to come along with me,” Tony offered since it wasn’t his idea in the first place and he had no need for a glorified babysitter.

“Nice try, but I’m coming along whether you like it or not,” Strange declared as he walked away to tend to his patients.

“Ugh, fine,” Tony said, digging his nails into his palms as he stormed away.

“Tony, wait,” Steve said, chasing after him to the deck.

“What now?” Tony asked, turning around to face him with the might of a raging tornado.

Steve closed the distance between them, buried a hand in his hair, and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. Woah. Tony’s brain short-circuited for a moment as he stood motionless in his lover’s arms. What the…? Was this really happening? Tony wrapped his arms around Steve and returned the kiss with the ferocity of all the hurt, heartache, and hunger for love weighing upon him and crushing his soul for the last two days. He buried his tongue into his cruel lover’s mouth and deepened the kiss as if to say: _You’re mine, I’m yours, and we are meant to be one forever_.

“What was that for?” Tony asked, rendered breathless as he pulled away from the kiss.

“For good luck,” Steve said with a little smile.

Tony brushed a thumb over his lover’s swollen red lips and pulled him into another searing kiss before he left with a little pep in his step and made his way to the warehouse. It wasn’t too far from the harbor, but still, at a safe enough distance from the town and its people for what he had planned for tonight. Oh no. In the distance, he saw a man making the rounds with a lantern in hand and then he spotted another. It must be the town’s watchmen. Tony must warn the crew of this potential problem, otherwise, the watchmen might sense something amiss and sound the alarm, and it’ll be an all out battle for them.

He made sure to remain hidden in the shadows and be stealthy as he moved closer to spy on the warehouse. Oh, horror upon horror, it was still full of workers toiling overnight to assemble some of the guns left unassembled, when Tony shut down his business with a small portion of the order still left unfulfilled, and of course, Obi swooped in to just take whatever he wanted, with a condescending pat upon Tony’s shoulder and a declaration that he could do it himself. These workers were preparing everything for the weapons to be shipped off tomorrow and they would be here all night, considering their numbers and the work at hand.

One of the guards, overseeing the workers, turned and holy mother of god, Tony recognized that bald man, worse yet, he and his buddies knew Tony all too well. They were the little private army Obi had recruited during his ‘ _travels’_ and dubbed them _The Ten Rings_ after the ten colonies they hailed from. This was bad. What was he going to do now? He couldn’t show them his face or Obi would find out who was to blame for tonight’s attack. He sure as hell couldn’t go to Steve with it, since his captain was allergic to spontaneity, spur of the moment plans, and making it up on the go, not to mention he would risk losing what he had regained of his lover’s affections. No. He had to do this. He had to figure this out on his own. There had to be a way.

When he was done with his perimeter sweep, and got a vague headcount of the guards and the workers, Tony ran back as fast as his feet could carry him. By the harbor, he ran into Natasha, and told her only of the two watchmen making rounds around town, and asked her to get someone to deal with them. Natasha simply scoffed and left to deal with them without any backup whatsoever. Well, that was the kind of confidence he wished he possessed to accomplish what needed to be done tonight.

He made sure to steer clear of the rest of the crew and ran up the hill to go deal with his commitment to summon Bruce, hoping he would come up with a brand new plan in that time. When he got to the ropes hanging from the cliff, he didn’t falter this time, but slid down with ease and a few graceful taps of his feet against the rock, leaving him positively surprised by how well he could handle this previously terrifying situation now that he had far more pressing matters to worry about. As Tony got into a boat and began to row it back to the ship, disaster struck in the form of rain clouds gathering overhead with a strong gust of wind. It started raining—not simple and manageable light shower Wanda might have predicted to assure Steve—but the heavens had torn asunder to wash away all hope of them succeeding tonight. No, no, no. Hopelessness gripped his heart as he looked up to the rain, descending upon him hard and fast, blotting out the cliffs and the hills and anything beyond a narrow field of vision the treacherous rain afforded. Tony almost cried as he summoned all the strength in his arms to row the boat as fast as he could all by his lonesome. This is what nightmares are made of. This was the absolute worst thing that could happen to a pirate mission. The weather was going to play them false for the winds and the tides which served as their ally until now had changed sides and become a hostile force.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.  
> Thanks for all your lovely comments to keep me motivated tae_se0k, Lovesick23, Cybis, Dodo, and HPaddict. I could really use some help for the next chapter guys. It might take a while for me to write it because its a big one for Tony! Its supposed to be his Ironman moment. Feel free to post your ideas and suggestions in the comments for how he would go on destroying his weapons when its raining so heavily and you've got the 10 rings guarding the warehouse. I'm winging it just like my Tony. Give me juice and give me ideas and give me validation because I seriously need it for the only chapter I'm clueless about in a story I have fully mapped out like Steve plans his missions. It's as Tony as it gets.


	16. Iron Man

Tony yelled out for Bruce like a madman as when he boarded the ship and made a run for the captain’s cabin. He kicked off his wet boots, peeled off his wet shirt and tossed it like it was the source of all his problems. He looked around the cabin, hopeless and lost, until his gaze fell upon his bag. How did it get here from the crew’s quarters? Ugh. Who cares? Tony dug out his only other set of simple clothes, a loose black shirt and grey pants, and traded it for his soaking wet clothes. What to do? What? He rushed to the maps laid out on the desk and studied the port’s layout at great length to figure out a way to turn this absolute disaster of a night around in their favor. He had never felt such desolation and despair, so utterly backed into a corner, with no way out but to succumb to the ever-growing helplessness devouring him whole.

He couldn’t see a way out of this hellhole. And he sure as hell didn’t know who to ask for help, because he’s the one who led the crew to certain death. He’s the one, who due to his hubris and tunnel-vision, had first kept his goals to himself and then struck a bargain to have free reign over dealing with the warehouse. Steve laid out only two conditions: Strange would tag along and he would wait for the crew’s signal before setting off any loud explosions.

His lover trusted him with the rest. Granted, Steve was operating under the assumption that things would be as simple and straightforward for Tony as his first time in India. Still, his captain and his lover trusted him with this, and what was he to do now? Walk up to the crew like some spoiled rich Baron, Steve would grow to despise in time, and demand: ‘ _I see you’re too preoccupied with your futile efforts to sail away with an entire fleet of ships, that I lead you to, during hostile weather which will be the death of us all, over the chain acting as a barrier that I didn’t even lower deep enough into the water for you to sail ships over it, but could you all drop everything to aid me in my personal vendetta?_ ’

The maps blurred from his vision as tears began to pool in his eyes. Tony fell to the ground, and with his head buried in his hands, he began to sob. It was his fault. The love of his life and his entire crew would soon realize they’re doomed to fail their mission. All his weapons would be shipped off tomorrow to terrorize innocent people and colonize their lands. None of them would make it out of here alive. And it would all be his fault. He would gladly shoulder the entire burden and go down alone for his hubris if only he knew how. Hell, he didn’t even have an idea for how to conceal his true identity from the _Ten Rings_. Ugh. If only there was some makeup, paint, or….

Tony’s gaze landed upon the red and gold armor standing sentry near the bed. Hmm, this might be his most eccentric idea yet. But it was also the only idea he had and desperate times do call for desperate measure.

“Ugh, why can’t I get inside you? It’s so damn tight.” Tony muttered as he squeezed into it. “Or is it just because it’s my first time…”

“What’s going on here?” Bruce asked as he walked in on him struggling with the unyielding armor, which was a lot lighter and manageable than he had expected, but it was still a herculean task to don the armor.

Tony turned his words in his mind before he smiled for the first time since disaster struck. “Let’s face it, this is not the worst thing you’ve walked in on me doing,” he teased, because the brilliant apothecary who joined him for tea almost every day since they met, had caught him in indecent and inappropriate situations with their esteemed captain on more than a few occasions.

“Tony, why were you screaming my name earlier? And what are you doing to that armor?” Bruce demanded.

“Pack your things. There’s a medical emergency they sent me to fetch you for,” Tony replied matter-of-factly before handing the note to Bruce, “And here, Strange told me to give you this.”

All questions and concerns about the armor were forgotten and Bruce rushed to go get his things. In the meantime, Tony was fully suited-up with the exception of the helmet, which sat upon the desk, while he formulated a plan of attack. He had a disguise. He had a sword to fight. All he needed was to figure out a way to blow up the arsenal using an accelerant whose flame couldn’t be extinguished by the pouring rain.

Bruce barged into the room with a loud bang and declared, “I need your help brewing potions and mixing medicines.”

“You can read this?” Tony asked, studying the surgeon’s undecipherable gibberish.

“You can’t?” Bruce asked, raising a brow as he busied himself with work.

Tony shrugged.

“And what’s with the suit?” Bruce asked again.

“It’s to…” Tony sighed before settling upon the truth. “I don’t want Stane’s guards to recognize me.”

“That is a very smart precaution to take,” Bruce commended him on his foresight despite being unaware of the just how desperately he was grasping for straws to crawl out of the grave he had dug for himself.

“Bruce, have you ever heard of Greek fire?” Tony asked, helping set up the apothecary’s apparatus. The man knew his chemistry and could grasp the most complex concepts with ease even when they lay way outside his field of expertise in medicine.

“The ancient weapon Byzantines used?” Bruce asked, more confused than ever about the sudden tangent to their current predicament of making medicine. It wasn’t out of nowhere. Tony didn’t believe in reinventing the wheel. He had always subscribed to the ideology that civilizations rose and fell cyclically, and history held the secrets to several scientific concepts and advancements, lost in the passage of time and simply lying in wait to be rediscovered, especially military technology, which has always pushed civilization to great heights and brought it tumbling back to the dark ages. It was his love for military history which allowed him to have breakthroughs his peers simply could not fathom with their limited knowledge of contemporary science.

“They used it attack enemy ships at sea. Water was useless in putting out the fire and in some cases only made it worse,” Tony replied. “Not to mention, how it was capable of unimaginable damage.”

“Like destroying a warehouse full of weapons,” Bruce asked, handing Tony a pestle and mortar to crush his herbs while he slow brewed his portion by placing a candle underneath his apparatus.

“Exactly,” Tony replied.

“But isn’t its composition long forgotten and heavily debated with nothing but speculation of it involving sulfur and lime?” Bruce asked. Greek fire was something which had fascinated Tony ever since he read about it, this marvel of the ancient world, now lost to mankind. He had read everything on the subject and had a few theories he never got around to acting on. Though, necessity is the mother of invention after all.

“I might have a few ideas for something close enough, and you, almost all the necessary ingredients I seek to brew my very own potion,” Tony said, bumping their shoulders together.

“Oh, Tony,” Bruce sighed the same way he did the afternoon Tony suggested they brew psychedelic tea and the apothecary gave in after a feeble sigh or two and they both had one hell of an evening.

Tony and Bruce carefully loaded barrels of his home-brewed flammable concoction onto the boat, along with Bruce’s bag of medicines, and made their way to the harbor over the rocking tides. The rain had only gotten worse since it started. But thankfully, it reduced visibility to the point that no one could spot them from the guard towers, and they simply rowed their boat over the barricade he had lowered into the water earlier. His anxieties still weighed upon him but at least now he had a plan. Not to mention this armor that turned out to be way lighter than he had imagined and was capable of shielding him against the elements to the point his clothes were still dry underneath it. If he made it out of here alive, he had so many ideas for improving upon it. Oh, if only. No. He couldn’t dwell upon the future. Only this moment. Only what was in his control. Only the next step of his plan. 

“You’re a lot stronger than you look,” Tony complimented Bruce when he noticed how fast their boat was going and knew it certainly wasn’t his doing.

“I guess I am,” Bruce replied with that sweet smile of his.

When he traded his lovely friend’s company for the surgeon and made for the narrow channel leading to the warehouse, Strange asked, “What’s with armor, gold boy?”

“It’s not gold,” Tony said with an unimpressed shake of his head. “The suit of armor is made of iron and is simply pained gold.”

“And red, mon cherry,” Strange teased, purposely butchering the French term of endearment to mock him.

“You’re the one to judge, little red riding hood,” Tony shot back since the man sat there pulling up the hood of his crimson cape to shield himself from the elements.

“What’s in the barrels?” Strange asked.

“Something capable of blowing you into countless cherry-sized chunks,” Tony replied.

“What? Why did you bring it here then?” Strange demanded.

“How do you think I planned on destroying my weapons?” Tony asked instead.

Once they unloaded the barrels and gently rolled them close to a secluded and dark corner by the warehouse, a familiar feminine voice said in a slow drawl, “Well, well, well, would you look at that…the cavalry has finally arrived.” Natasha Romanoff walked out of the shadows with feline grace. “Just two night watchmen had you quite literally running for the hills, hmm, Stark?”

“Yeah, you should probably go take care of them,” Tony replied in a casual tone, deeply grateful for to his helmet for guarding his very expressive and terrified face.

“Already did,” Natasha replied. “They’re both knocked out unconscious and tied to a lamppost. Come on, follow me,” she said, leading them to a back entrance. “This part of the warehouse is mostly abandoned, except for the weapons stored here, and there’s a good fifteen to twenty minute window before a guard makes his rounds here.”

“Oh, thanks, that’s actually pretty useful information,” Tony said to make up for not being entirely honest with her. He searched for a subtle way to figure out just how screwed he was before asking, “So…who else is coming to join us?”

“I didn’t tell, Steve, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Natasha replied matter-of-factly. “The captain is juggling too many things right now. We can handle this on our own.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Tony said, offering an olive branch.

Natasha simply eyed him with judgment and skepticism before handing him a gun. “Here, I stole one for both of you,” she said, handing one each to him and Strange, while keeping two for herself. “Stay low. A guard should walk past by any moment now. Once he’s out of sight, we go in and…. You do have a plan right?” she asked, eyes popping like some horrifying realization just washed over her.

“I don’t think he does,” Strange said.

“I do,” Tony protested. “I absolutely do. Why do you think I brought these barrels here?”

“What’s in them?” Natasha asked.

“Something very flammable,” Tony replied. “Hey, you don’t happen to know where they stock the flamethrowers. Do you?”

“As a matter of fact,” Natasha said, before grabbing their heads and shoving them down before he too heard the faint sound of approaching footsteps. Once the coast was clear, they sneaked inside. “Go straight, turn left at the fifth row of racks, and there you will find the flamethrowers,” she informed them and took her post as their lookout.

Tony and Strange rushed to the rack. The instant Tony found the new experimental weapon he discontinued after this limited line, he began dismantling it to install the apparatus upon his gauntlets. “I need you to remove all these tanks and begin emptying the oil anywhere and everywhere you see fit. Do you have steady hands?”

“I’m a surgeon,” Strange replied, sounding quite offended.

“Great, then start refilling these tanks with what’s in the barrels. Fill as many tanks as you possibly can with it and keep them somewhere handy for you to load them up on my back when required.”

“Guard approaching,” Natasha warned them.

“You seem capable enough. Deal with him like you handled those watchmen. This cannot be rushed. Trust me,” Tony said as he picked up the pace with his tinkering.

Natasha ran up to the man, and before he could even react, she had somehow climbed up to his shoulders and began strangling him with her thighs, and oh my god, he guard was soon unconscious, gagged, and tied up. When she returned to them, dusting off her hands, there was a cocky and far too pleased smile on her face.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Tony asked.

“Ballerina training,” Natasha replied with a little shrug.

“Fine, keep your secrets,” Tony sighed.

“How long will this take? If guards keep disappearing, there’s only a matter of time before they figure out something is wrong,” Natasha pointed out.

“I’m almost done mounting these on my gantlets,” Tony replied. “Can you please help Strange with the fuel tanks?”

“Will do,” Natasha replied, getting to it.

Tony put his gauntlets back on and had strange mount the tanks on his back. He slid his gun into a slot in the armor over his thigh. He had his sword on the other hip. So, he set out making rounds of his own to set trails of gunpowder and accelerants lying around. When his gaze fell to the cannons, he set out to working on sabotaging them to explode when it was time. He did his very best to remain stealthy. Every now and then, some poor warehouse worker being yelled at or punished or beaten made him wince but he reminded himself that he couldn’t intervene. Not now. He couldn’t. He simply couldn’t draw attention to himself. Not until the crew sounds the signal. No. He must avoid, ignore, and keep moving forward. Then he heard a child’s voice beg for someone to help.

He turned a corner to find a man, wielding two whips, beating a small child of ten. “Take this, you useless wretch. Didn’t meet even a quarter of your quota while everyone else here is more than halfway done with theirs. Why is that?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the child begged. “I’m going as fast as I can.”

“Not good enough,” he said with another crack of his whip.

Tony caught it in mid-air and dragged the man back. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”

The man flung his other whip at him, sending him flying into a wall while all the workers huddled into a corner, screaming and whimpering. Tony aimed his flamethrower at the man and fired. Nothing. He fired again. Nothing. Damn it. He had tested out his adaptation of Greek-fire with Bruce and it worked perfectly. Why the hell did it fail him now that he actually needed it? His gaze fell to the tube which came dangling upon his shoulder after not being fitted properly into the tank. Damn it, Strange. The man he had attacked came marching towards him, slashing his whips upon the ground to intimidate. Tony drew his sword. All his training abandoned him in a moment of crisis when he required it the most, and he made a few frantic slashes to chop off the whips, but alas, they were made of tougher material than he had anticipated. One of the whips curled around his sword, sending it hurling over to the other end of the room.

Tony pulled out his gun. The man picked up the child and mocked, “Go ahead, let’s find out if you can shoot me before I snap this wretch’s neck. Put the gun down.” He wasn’t going to play dice with a child’s life, so he did as he was told. “Now kick it away.”

The child was clever though. He took advantage of the man’s undivided attention on his adversary in a suit of armor, and none on the underestimated slip of a child, so he grabbed a fist full of gunpowder from his worktable and flung it right into the man’s eyes before running away to hide behind Tony’s armored leg. Tony drew inspiration from the scrappy little child and grabbed the oil lamp upon the desk to fling at him. He blocked the attack by crossing his hands in front of his face. The lamp did nothing to him but it somehow managed to set his whips on fire. Damn it. He must soak them in oil to make them sting even more.

Tony half expected the man to drop them but he kept attacking with those burning whips. Ugh. What to do? What? Tony had no sword, no gun, no flamethrower, and a tank full of flammable substance capable of blowing him to kingdom come with one well-placed attack from those fiery whips.

He told the child to run off, and dodged and ducked all the attacks, some making it dangerously close to the tank. He soon realized he had gauntlets covering his hands. Even if it got a bit too hot, his skin wouldn’t burn from contact with the whips. He grabbed one, then the other, and began to roll them upon his gauntlet, until his attacker was close enough for him to bash his helmet into the man’s thick skull. The man staggered back, letting go of the whips. Tony tossed them away, the instant he felt his hands warming up a little too much for his preference.

His fallen adversary refused to five up, and for a final Hail Mary pass, crawled towards the gun Tony had left upon the ground. He flew at it as well. When the man laid a hand on it first, Tony elbowed him with his armored hand, picked up the gun, and shot him in the head.

As he fixed his pipe into the tank and tested out his flamethrowers, he heard the child say in a small voice, “Thank you, Ironman.”

“Ironman,” Tony mused. “I like it, has a nice ring to it. What’s your name, kid?”

“Harley, sir,” he replied.

“Nice to meet you, Harley,” Tony said as the approaching footsteps and shouts of more guards became louder. “You must run off now. Things are about to get ugly. The rest of you too,” he said, jerking his head towards the other warehouse workers as he retrieved his sword from where it fell. He didn’t have to tell them twice. They all ran out the nearest door. All except the child. “Didn’t you hear me? Go home to your parents.”

“I’m an orphan, sir,” Harley replied, “And this warehouse is where I sleep at night.” Oh, goodness. That broke Tony’s heart in two. If he made it out of here alive, he would make sure this kid was established somewhere more fit more a child.

“All right, kid, find some cover to shield yourself and start loading up some guns for me,” Tony said, tossing him the one he had just fired.

Harley started filling it up with gunpowder and a lead ball, repeating the same with as many guns he could find, because once those guards got here, there wouldn’t be enough time for reloading.

Someone’s shouts became audible in the distance. “What is going on there? Which one of you bastards fired a gun?”

“Ivan?” someone else shouted. “Ivan is dead. One of the workers killed him. Come one, everyone, that way. Look they are all running away.”

Tony recognized them both. They were members of the Ten Rings, Obi’s little private army of guards. As one of them raised his gun to shoot at the workers making a run for it, Tony approached him from the side, and said, “Boo,” as he raised his gauntlet and unleashed the flames of his flamethrower at the man. He raised another hand to burn the other one as well. The kid flung a gun at him, which he used to shoot a third. They kept coming at him. He kept blasting streams of fire and shooting at them with the guns the kid kept tossing at him at a phenomenal speed. Tony had never felt as powerful in his life as he did now; clad in the armor his lover stole and painted for him and wielding the power of the ancients which he had reinvented with his own two hands.

“There is no more ammo here,” Harley screamed. “I would have to go find some.”

“No,” Tony yelled. “You stay put. Don’t you dare go running around in the middle of combat! I have this covered,” he said, advancing upon the guards with the firepower of both the flamethrowers mounted upon his arms.

Then, he suddenly ran out of fuel.

“Shit,” Tony muttered as he stood surrounded by an enemy force on all sides. He once again drew his sword and this time he kept his calm while doing his very best dueling multiple opponents at once. “Strange! Strange, I need more juice,” he cried out for the man who was so hell-bent upon tagging along as a backup. Where the hell was he when Tony truly needed him?

“Tony,” Strange yelled out as he came at them with nothing but a tank of fuel in one hand and a gun in another. No. Oh no. He would get himself killed. Strange used his gun, his only defense, to shoot the man standing between them and tossed Tony the fuel tank, and of course, someone used that window of opportunity to shoot Strange for taking down his comrade.

“No,” Tony screamed as he watched Stanger fall several feet back from the impact of the gunshot, and truly, what a bizarre gunshot it was, for an enormous circle of orange and yellow light with symbols like pentagrams and other runes that wizards, warlocks, and sorcerers would draw upon the ground to summon demons in the stories Tony grew up reading. What on earth? Was he hallucinating? Tony ran as fast as his armored feet would carry him and grasped onto Stranger’s shirt, which was spotless, without a drop of blood on it. “What? How? He just shot you.”

“Never mind,” Strange brushed it off as he helped Tony switch out the fuel tanks on his back. “Snap out of it, Stark, and go fight them off.”

Tony plugged the tube into the tank and turned back to roast the man who shot Strange. Wait, where were the rest of them? He turned around to find them either dead or knocked out unconscious, while Natasha Romanoff stood over the last man standing, the bald one, their leader, strangling him with his own scarf.

“Did you just singlehandedly take out a group of trained assassins with nothing with your bare hands?” Tony asked. “Well, mark me down for truly terrified and totally turned on.”

Natasha smirked. “Just for that I am going to snitch on you to Steve.”

“You do that,” Tony challenged. “He could really benefit for a healthy dose of jealousy right about now.” He made his way to where Harley was hiding. “All right, lad, the coast is clear.” To his partners in crime, he said, “I can handle the rest on my own. One of you let the crew know I’m all set to blow up this place, and the other, please, I beg you to take this child to our ship.” Tony picked up Harley in his arms offered him to Natasha and Strange.

“Tony, we don’t accept children into the crew,” Natasha protested.

“He’s my responsibility,” Tony assured her. “I’ll take him home with me and figure something out for his future. Please, just take him to the ship.”

Natasha took the child in her arms and left with a little nod, Strange following after her with a respectful nod and a strange smile. He was certain the bullet hit the surgeon. Then, how did he survive?

Tony set out to do the last of his groundwork for the explosion, setting up the fuel tanks Strange had filled, upside down and leaking in strategic locations to explode when he lit the final match. Suddenly a booming voice echoed throughout the abandoned warehouse. “There he is, officer, there’s the armored knight who attacked us.” It was the worker he had saved from being shot in the back.

“Really? Et tu, Brute?” Tony asked as he stood facing all of his majesty’s soldiers guarding his port.

Well, there was a silver lining to this unfortunate situation. If every soldier in this godforsaken town was in here fighting him, then they couldn’t be out there on the castle walls manning the cannons and attacking his lover. Steve would be safe. He would make it out of here alive and successful if he truly had a plan to deal with the pouring rain and the barricade. Even if he didn’t, they could simply abandon the treasure and make it back to The Avenger in time to leave. Yes, they would all be safe. Tony wouldn’t have failed them and he certainly wouldn’t have led them to their deaths. As for him, he no longer cared if his world was to end in fire for he would have fulfilled his heart’s desire with his all weapons destroyed, unable to cause harm to innocent people, and the love of his life safely on board his ship. That’s all he wanted. That’s all he cared about. That’s all that truly mattered now. With that final resolve, he drew his sword and surveyed his surroundings where he stood surrounded by the weapons of his making and traps of his laying. He had made a lot of mistakes in his life; almost no one would describe him as a good person; even the ones who loved him, were required to put up with a lot, for he was a handful; nevertheless, never let it be said that Tony Stark went down without a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)
> 
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.
> 
> Thank you to all you lovely commentators to keep me motivated: Dodo, chloestar05, Lovesick23, tae_se0k, and two new additions to the family, Dreamkeeper8 and Lady_Chaoticka. So, how do you guys think this night is going to end for Tony? I'm curious to hear your thoughts, mostly because, much like Tony, I'm still winging it for how he makes it out of this warehouse, even though I have Steve's plan for escape fully fleshed out. Give me your theories, ideas, and headcanons because I could really use them. The comment section of the last update was immensely helpful in formulating some of the ideas for the future. Come on, talk to me. Tell tell how we can save our Tony.


	17. An Avenger

Tony went flying straight into a rack while a third of the warehouse was on fire due to the shots he misled the soldiers into firing straight into the traps he had laid out. In the distance, a horn blew. Steve! He didn’t know how Cap pulled it off, but alas, they were on the move, and this was his signal to blast this bloody warehouse to hell. Finally. He was sick and tired of dodging, running, and tricking these troops into traps. Now he could play on the offense at last.

“Seize him,” the officer commanded his troops. “Seize him and take off that abominable armor.”

“I’m flattered by your enthusiasm to undress me, officer, but I’m spoken for,” Tony teased, firing his flamethrower straight at the gunpowder trail leading to the rack behind them. “And you walked straight into that one…but my lover is way hotter than you,” he said, pointing at the officer’s flaming sleeve, despite the man’s best efforts to evade the fire.

“Is that all you’ve got,” the officer asked, dabbing the flames from his sleeves, “A cheap trick and a cheesy one-liner?”

“Sweetheart, that could be the name of my autobiography,” Tony said, lighting up another gunpowder trail to keep them panicked and at bay while making his way to the cannons. They say when one door closes another opens, but when one is surrounded by soldiers at every entrance and a ring of fire of one’s own making, an exit needs to be blasted into the nearest wall. Thus, Tony got to the cannons he didn’t have a chance to sabotage—when he got distracted by the child being whipped—and began loading it up. 

“Sir, all the merchant ships are taking off,” one of the soldiers guarding the main entrance yelled out.

“Taking off?” their officer demanded before going off on a rant neither he nor his underlings got a chance to hear due to the booming roar of the cannonball shooting a giant hole in the wall.

“That’s right, officer, pirates robbed an entire fleet from right under your nose, while you spent your night chasing after this hot piece of ass,” Tony mocked him because he simply could not fight them all any longer, and he could certainly use a distraction, now that the crew was no longer in immediate danger. By the time these idiots would return to their posts, Steve would be safely slipped away and out on the open sea with the entire fleet.

“This was a trick. A distraction,” the officer screamed. “Men, return to your posts.”

“Yeah, last warning, you better run or get blown to pieces,” Tony said, cracking open and kicking away the barrel of Greek-fire left untouched. Once it was far enough away, Tony lit up the liquid trail and made a run for it. So did everyone else. Thankfully, in the panic of the moment, no one thought of chasing after him. They were too busy making it back to their posts or running for their lives. Tony didn’t look back but the thunderous boom of a great explosion tore through the silence of the night. The dark skies brightened like it was the middle of the day. And even though he had run quite the distance, he could still feel the heat radiating from behind like he was taking an afternoon stroll through a desert. He stole one glance at the warehouse. It was done. One after another, a series of explosions destroyed the structure. It was glorious. Not a single one of his weapons would survive by the time the fire is put out.

He made a run for the cliff, so high on battle, victory, and an adrenaline rush, that he could no longer feel the weight of the armor upon his body. The fleet was approaching the towers. Oh, no. Had he made a premature blunder, by exposing what was really going on to the soldiers, simply to save his own hide? What if this is when it all falls apart? What’s your plan, Steve? What’s your bloody plan? Only when de watched the first ship cruise over where the chain should have hindered it, did it finally hit him. Shit. Cap, you beautiful bastard! Tony was supposed to be smarter than this, and yet, he had been worrying over two negatives that were bound to make a positive. The pouring rain and the shallow chain weren’t two separate problems but the two halves of the solution, since the canal was now thoroughly flooded after hours of heavy rainfall, and the water level had risen so far above the chain that the ships could easily glide over it. It all made sense.

Oh, that brilliant fucking strategist. Tony fell even more in love with Steve, if that was even possible at this point, but damn, he couldn’t wait to be alone with his lover and properly commend him on his genius. The last of their stolen fleet made it out of the port by the time the dark night gave way to a dull grey upon the horizon and he had almost made it to the top of the cliff.

“Hey, over here,” Steve called out where he stood gripping the railing of the crow’s nest, at the highest point of the ship almost at eye level with the cliff top. “He’s here. Lift the anchor and prepare to take off,” he ordered the crew as he grabbed onto a rope, stood upon the railing, and ran over it before jumping and taking off swinging by the rope to come to Tony’s rescue with an outstretched hand.

“Cap, you brilliant bastard, you knew it was going to flood,” Tony shouted, running to the edge of the cliff to grab his lover’s hand.

“You’re the one to talk my dear mad scientist,” Steve shouted, jerking in the vague direction of the warehouse behind them.

Tony jumped off the cliff to grab his lover’s hand in mid-air, and oh, the beauty and wonder of flight. All his life he felt like a bird trapped in a cage and now he finally flew. Sure, he held onto the rope for dear life and grasped Steve’s gloved hand with the crushing grip of his gauntlet, but still, he was glided through the sky and cutting through the pelting rain like a bird returning home in rain. For the first time in his life, he felt truly alive.

_Bang!_

Now that they had swung far enough to be facing the cliff he had taken off from; he saw the officer and two of his men who attacked him at the warehouse, standing at the edge of the cliff, aiming their guns at him.

“There he is,” the officer shouted from the cliff top. “There’s the armored knight.”

_Bang! Bang!_

Two gunshots hit straight into his chest plate, not piercing it entirely, but the impact of the gunshots was enough to send him hurling back with only his gauntlet hanging from Steve’s hand. The last thing he heard was a high pitched shriek of his lover, “Noooooooooooooo…..” as he flung his shield, taking out all three of the men.

Tony was so proud of Steve. He loved him so damn much. He couldn’t believe they wasted their last two days on earth fighting and bickering and now it was over. Time definitely came to standstill in his final moments, but unlike what they say, it wasn’t his entire life that flashed in front of his eyes, only the moments he spent tasting desire, passion, adventure, life, and true love with his beloved. But every journey must come to an end and this was his. Like Icarus, who flew too close to the sun, Tony fell as well. He fell hard.

It felt like he was falling forever. Tony squeezed his eyes shut, embracing his doom, and waiting for it all to be over. At least, he got a chance to undo all his mistakes and make things right before meeting his maker. He braced himself for when he plunged underwater. All the bravery he had summoned left him the instant water invaded his helmet. He kept sinking to the bottom, with no way to swim or escape due to the weight of the armor. Desperate for life’s breath, he gasped and flailed in the dark waters, in which the bioluminescence still enveloped him in a blue burst of stars. Tony kept sinking. Sinking. As he lay dying at the sea bed, crushed by the weight of his inescapable armor, he realized, no, he didn’t wish to die. But he was so tired of fighting. And so cold. Oh, was this the last act of defiance of the great Tony Stark, to simply accept his fate and perish in these icy cold waters? He must fight. He must keep fighting. If only he could wrestle his way out of his suit of armor. He must. He…he…the world began to darken and blur away…and then he spotted an enormous red fishtail in his peripheral vision. Strong arms gripped him, pulling him up to the surface. Was he dead? Is this how drowned men, lying in their watery graves, were taken to afterlife, reaped by the hands of water-nymphs? There was no more struggling and gasping for breath….only darkness…and all light and life went out from his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go. Double update thanks to Dodo and Lovesick23's comments pushing me through the second half of Tony's Ironmnan debut. It's done. Over. No more individual action and we will soon return to SS Stony's fluffy smutty goodness. Don't worry I'll ease you into it after all this action. So, here's a fun question, how did you interpret that chapter ending? Like what do you think happened there? And how do you think Steve would react?  
> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	18. True Love's Kiss

Tony felt soft lips pressed upon his as life’s breath filled his chest until something burned like lava in his throat and he fell to his side coughing and hurling out the bitter and searing saltwater. The fog lifted from his vision and Steve’s angelic face came into focus. Where? What happened? Tony looked around to see Steve, Bruce, and Thor huddled up and standing over him as he lay sprawled out on the deck in armor filled with water. He immediately began tearing it off his body. God, he needed to get out. Out. Right this instant. Or he would…he would…drown? Oh, no! He drowned. The realization dawned upon him with horrific memories and sensations filling his mind and he almost forgot to breathe for a moment.

Then, his gaze landed upon Scott, lounging at the edge of the deck by the railing, and from his kilt hung a _fishtail_! No. That’s impossible. Tony rubbed his eyes. It was still there. His legs. Where were his legs? Where his legs were supposed to be was a humongous red fishtail with black fins and a bit of silver and grey shading and shimmering here and there. Tony blinked owlishly, ogling at it with his mouth agape. It was still there.

“You, it was you,” Tony said, pointing a finger at him. “You saved me!”

“Yes,” Scott replied, beating his _tail_ upon the deck, “And why does that sound like an accusation? It’s gratitude you’re supposed to offer right now,” he explained in a condescending tone. All the pieces of the puzzle suddenly fit together, how he was such a supernaturally strong and fast swimmer, why he always smelled so fishy, and why he called him a human like as if both didn’t have that in common.

“You’re a mermaid,” Tony blurted out, more confused than ever.

“I’m a merman,” Scott shot back sounding mighty offended.

“Mermen aren’t real,” Tony said, turning to Steve, Bruce, and Thor to back him up on this bizarre hallucination he was suffering, after experiencing some sort of brain damage from drowning, but they all seemed pretty desensitized to the madness of it all as they continued to help him take off the armor.

“Well, I’m real,” Scott said matter-of-factly.

“How? This is a prank. You’re messing with me,” Tony said. “Mermen and mermaids only exist in fairytales.”

“Fished out of the sea by a merman and brought back to live by true love’s kiss,” Scott said, jerking his head towards Steve. “You best start believing in fairytales, Stark, because you’re in one.”

Tony turned to Steve with a miserable pout, not sure what he needed from him…though some assurance and a hug would be nice.

Steve cupped his face lovingly in his hands before pulling him into a kiss. And what a kiss it was. Steve might as well have breathed his entire life and soul into Tony, desperately claiming him to the land of the living and tethering him to reality, like he still couldn’t quite believe that Tony was alive and well and in his arms. Tony was putty in his hands and felt dizzy and drunk on all this love suddenly being showered upon him. It was like desert rain. He didn’t even realize how thirsty he was for love until this moment. He moaned into his lover’s demanding mouth when a hand grabbed his hair to deepen the kiss. For someone who had almost drowned, Tony had no regard or newfound appreciation for drawing breath, because kissing Steve was far way important than things like breathing. Steve pulled away at last and leaned his forehead against his.

“I love you, Tony,” Steve whispered against his lips.

“You do?” Tony asked, sounding far more desperate for love than he intended to but he no longer cared for appearances. What if he wasn’t cool and calm and composed? What did any of it matter now?

“I do,” Steve said, pulling away a bit to meet his eye, but still holding onto his face in a soft grip. “I love you so much. I love you more than life itself, my darling. I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost you.” A single tear rolled down his cheek and he lowered his head to hide it.

Tony wrapped his arms around Steve, pulling him in an embrace, and said, “Nothing happened to me. I’m fine. I’m here. And I love you, too. I love you so much. You will never know that depths of my love for you.”

“No, I’m pretty sure my love is way deeper than yours,” Steve said with a little laugh.

“Sure it is,” Tony scoffed. “Hey,” he said, pulling away as the realization dawned upon him, “Are you just saying all this because you thought I died?”

“Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love,” Steve said, quoting that popular new bard, Shakespeare, who was the talk of the town these days and whose plays were the only thing Tony missed about his life in London anymore.

“Really, Steve, a pickup line from a play about a man who pushed his lover away before she tragically died from drowning,” Tony asked, pointing at the sea to drive the point home. “A little too on the nose don’t you think?”

“Come here,” Steve said, taking Tony into his arms again and dropping a little kiss on his nose. “I love you, Tony. I love you so damn much. It’s wasn’t the thought of you dying that pulled it from the depths of my heart, but the regret of not telling you so every single day, and leaving it unsaid between us forever, and parting with only memories of quarrels and chaos and even the faintest belief that I didn’t love you, was what pulled it to my lips now. And I will keep telling you so for the rest of my life. Because I do,” Steve pulled him into another kiss, “I love you.” With each little kiss, they seared the words upon each other’s lips, repeating it, giving life to it, reveling in the beauty and liberation of declaring it so feely after unnecessarily holding it in for so long.

“I love you, Steve, I love you,” Tony repeated like a madman in between kisses.

“I hate to break this up,” Bruce said, shaking them out of the little love spell they had spun like a bubble around them, “But we are being shot at with cannon balls as we speak.” Tony looked up, and yes, all the cannons upon the city walls were aimed at them, now that the rest of the fleet had disappeared, and unlike the two of them, the rest of the crew was returning fire and manning all the cannons on the side of the ship facing the port.

Steve cleared his throat with the most adorable blush coloring his face and instantly switched to his commanding captain’s voice. “Keep firing until we’re out of their range. It’s only a matter of minutes.”

“But why are we even going this way?” Tony asked, unable to comprehend what was going on now that he was ripped from the paradise of his lover’s embrace and thrown so cruelly back into battle.

“The rest of the fleet is on course for the Caribbean with our sister crew,” Steve replied. “Natasha and Clint have left with them to help move the product and protect our interests. The Avenger must bear the burden of the target on our back while everyone else escapes.”

“Which they have,” Wanda yelled as she stood peering through the looking glass for the fleet disappearing upon the western horizon.

“If Natasha has left with them, then where is the child?” Tony asked.

“He’s sleeping below deck,” Bruce assured him.

“Is he your ward now?” Steve asked, sounding more than a little confused and conflicted.

“What? No. I don’t know. Maybe,” Tony replied, still not quite sure what to do with a child, whether to establish him at a good orphanage, or a boarding school, or with a nice family, or adopt the kid himself. Though, he was clearly not cut out for fatherhood. Or was he? How hard could it be?

“Captain, they’re coming after us,” Thor yelled out, pointing at the warship which had taken off from the port.

“Let them come,” Steve replied before he turned to Wanda with a questioning gaze.

Wanda nodded.

“Change course, we’re taking the scenic route back home,” Steve announced, pointing at the storm in the distance, which was raging far worse than the endless rain they were drenched in at the moment.

Tony looked from Steve to the storm like his lover had succumbed to madness. “Are you out of your mind? How do you plan on sailing a ship through that?”

“I plan on doing no such thing, my love,” Steve replied with that cocky grin of his. “You’re going to sail the ship through that.”

“That’s crazy,” Tony said, stomping a foot.

“It is,” Steve agreed, “But this is exactly the kind of crazy for which I needed a genius as a Chief Engineer.”

“Yeah, let’s find out if you truly are my superior when it comes to doing the math through a crisis,” Scott teased; now walking on two feet to climb upon the masts.

Inhaling a sharp breath to compose himself, Tony kicked his armor down the stairs leading under the deck and took off the last of armor weighing him down. When he chucked away the chest-plate, with a long deep depression in the middle due to the bullet holes, he noticed the little scratch it left on him. Tony laced up his shirt and properly tied the strings together. Steve would make a big deal out of it if he noticed it and they had far too much on their plate right now.

“All right, as soon as we are out of the range of their canons, I need at least thirty men climbing up those masts,” Tony announced. “And Steve,” he asked, lowering his voice to keep his concerns between them. “What if that warship follows us into the storm?”

“Well, they don’t have a Tony Stark on board their ship,” Steve said with a little kiss before taking his post at the ship’s helm.

They made their suicidal way to the tides rising and falling as high as hills. The wind and the rain were beating ferociously upon the sails when Scott screamed from where he stood upon the rigs, “We’re standing by, give your order.”

Tony gripped the railing, gauging the winds, and yelled, “Takedown all the topgallant and course sails now.” Speed was no longer an issue. They had plenty of wind anyway. What they needed now was to slow down, resist, sail steady through the storm. The men immediately began pulling up the sails and tying them to the rigs, despite the rain hammering upon them. “Keep her steady, Steve,” he yelled out as the ship began to tilt a little too much to one side for his liking.

Thor helped him steady the ship, yet, despite their best efforts, a mountain high wave came to knock them to the side.

In the distance, the ship chasing after them went down entirely, for they were hit by a wave far worse. The Avenger wasn’t spared either. She was knocked down to her side. They all fell to one side of the ship, holding onto the ropes, the rails, and the poles, whatever came handy for dear life. The men, who had climbed up to the topmost masts, were now either windsurfing upon the tumultuous sea or drowning in it. All those who slipped away from where they gripped their masts, Scott jumped into the tempest to fish out and throw back on deck.

The topgallant that was only halfway tied up came unfurling down to catch the winds and destabilize them further. “Scott, we must reduce the windage!”

“There’s only so much I can do,” Scott screamed before diving in to bring back another fallen comrade from the sea.

Tony began scaling the rope ladder to the top, screaming at the rest. “That topgallant will drive us into the sea. Tie it up. Now. We will sink just like that other ship if we don’t rein it in at once.”

“Tony, where are you going?” Steve called out.

“You just worry about pulling her back up,” Tony yelled back.

“We’re trying,” Steve and Thor screamed in unison.

“We can’t get up there to tie it up,” one of the ship hands reported.

“Then move out of the way. Steer clear of the topgallant,” Tony commanded, and with that, he made it to the pulleys holding up the rigging and began hacking at the ropes with his sword. It didn’t take long before the sail, along with the top of the mast, broke off and fell into the raging sea.

“Why did you do that?” Scott demanded when he resurfaced.

“The ship is better off damaged than at the bottom of the sea,” Tony shouted back. He didn’t know what it was, but despite having a merman for the rescue onboard, the idea of falling into the sea gripped his heart with pure unadulterated terror and knocked the wind out of him. He could not. He simply could not go back into the sea. He needed something solid underneath his feet. Not to mention there was a child on board this ship that was now his responsibility. “Steve, we have already lost the ship following us. It’s time we change course.”

“No,” Steve replied. “We keep heading into the wind.”

“Things will only get worse,” Tony protested. “We need to make it out of this storm.”

“They would be patrolling downwind, we’ll be blown straight to them and spotted,” Steve replied.

“Then we will be spotted. Big deal,” Tony argued. “This is madness. You turn this ship around this instant, Steve Rogers, or so help me god, I will march over there and do it myself!” When his cruel lover showed no sign of compliance, Tony made his way to the helm.

Thor stepped aside, wanting no involvement in their quarrel, when Tony gripped one of the spokes of the wheel and glared dauntless into his lover’s eyes. He loved this man more than there were drops in the ocean but he was prepared to duel him over this. Steve’s gaze fell to his Tony’s grey breeches and he went as pale as a ghost.

“Why is there blood on your pants?” Steve demanded. “Oh my god, Tony, why is there blood dripping onto your pants?” The string fastening the top of his black shirt had unknotted and come loose. When Steve’s scrutinizing eyes landed upon Tony’s chest, he gripped the top of his shirt and exposed the wound.

“Please don’t overreact,” Tony said, raising his hands in a placating gesture.

“Don’t overreact?” Steve screamed at the top of his voice. “There is a very deep scar etched across the width of your chest. Thor, turn this ship around.”

“Please don’t exaggerate, it’s more like half my chest,” Tony tried to brush it off but even as did so, the battle high, his heightened state of survival, and the adrenaline wore off, and now that he took a proper look at the cut and the blood oozing from it, he lost whatever was keeping him strong and on his two feet, and he ended up staggering a bit.

Steve caught him in his arms, and to add insult to the injury, gathered him up in a bridal carry to take him to captain’s cabin like an injured little bird. “Strange, Bruce, get your things, he needs stitches.”

“Put me down this instant,” Tony mumbled with his face buried in his lover’s bosom.

Steve merely dropped a kiss on top of his head. “It’ll be fine, my love, it’ll be all fine,” he muttered, more to assure himself than Tony, who despite his protests felt dizzier and dizzier by the moment, and then it was all a blur of hurt, pain, rags shoved into his mouth, and his mutilated flesh pierced and prodded even more. All the while, Steve sat beside him, holding his hand, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. Tony didn’t even fear it. He had simply grown far too weary of death, which kept sinking her claws into him like a very needy and clingy mistress, desperate to stake her claim upon him, but his undying love for his stubborn lover would simply not allow him to slip. Even if the grim reaper, himself, showed up to collect him, Tony was certain Steve would beat him into submission. He sunk into a deep slumber, but he knew, deep down in his heart, he knew, he must return to Steve, and if he forgot it even for an instant, his lover’s distant disembodied voice was constantly there to remind him that he dare not leave him.

**********

(My lovely reader, Dodo, made this manip, which I thought to share with you all to cheer you up after a sad cliffhanger. Also, this is exactly the kind of thing Tony would do to make Scott suffer)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.  
> Thanks to Dodo, Lovesick23, and two new lovely commentators: Thebabysoldier and Wolfens, I was able to push through another quick update. I promised fluff and I delivered upon it...a little for this one...but a significant moment. I swear there will be a lot of smut, fluff, heart to hearts, and smooth sailing in the next two chapters to make up for all that I put these two and you guys through for the last eight. So, what did you guys think of their declaration of love? Worth the wait or meh? And what are your wishes for fluff and smut to come? I'm all for fan service now so ask away.


	19. Nursing and Healing

The skies were clear and sunny and the sea calm by the time Tony awoke from his sleeping spell. He didn’t know for how long he was out but he was certain, more than a day had passed with him lying in the captain’s cabin, his chest all bandaged up like a mummy, and the bittersweet realization that he now lay quite literally nursing a broken heart so soon after Steve made him the happiest man alive with his beautiful proclamation of love. He didn’t recall much of what happened after he fainted from blood-loss, but he remembered getting seasick several times, being poked and prodded by the surgeon and the apothecary, and the faint recollection of the ship making it out of the storm. He also remembered being cold. So cold. It felt like sleeping in death’s embrace, trembling and shivering, desperate for warmth. He had snatches of memories of Bruce screaming about the risks of hypothermia and Steve holding onto him for dear life while he shook like a leaf. 

Tony had made a wager with Steve, boasting he wouldn’t grow fearful, cold, uncomfortable, or seasick. He let out a mirthless laugh at just how miserably he had failed at it all. Steve had to coddle him when the very sight of the port they were attacking filled his heart with dread. He grew seasick and cold and he had never felt more uncomfortable as he did now with his sewed up mutilated chest. Not to mention how he had to be saved from drowning like a bloody damsel in distress. Tony shook his head in disappointment. He had lost the wager. Steve was right to offer him a way out before it all began. He wasn’t made of strong enough stuff to be a pirate. One mission and he had taken to bed like an invalid.

As he yanked away the sheets to get out of bed, he realized he was stark naked underneath them, with the exception of his bandages. Neither set of his clothes were anywhere in sight. He wrapped the sheets around his form, not just around his waist like he usually would, but all the way to collarbone to hide the hideous evidence of his injury.

He searched for his bag and found no clothes there. He dug out his powders and potions for oral hygiene since his breath stank like hell, and at least this was a problem he could remedy. He found Jarvis’s medicines and groaned. Ugh. He dumped everything back into the bag, dropped it upon the bedside table, and set out to take a turn about the room to stretch his legs. Tony stood by the captain’s desk, watching the sunshine stream through the enormous windows before his gaze landed upon the first sketch his lover had drawn of him. He turned the sketch in the frame to study the nude on the flip side from the morning after they first made love. He smiled. He was sleeping, blissfully fucked, and wearing nothing but the ruby ring he had wagered.

Tony set aside his sense of defeat and decided not to be a spoilsport about it. Steve loved him. What did it matter if he lost a ring to him? He would shower a million rings upon him. Though, it would be great if it was out of generosity and wanting to spoil his lover and not accompanied by the sting of inadequacy and failure.

Steve suddenly barged into the room with a radiant smile. “You’re up!” He turned away at once to yell out, “Tony is awake. Prepare something light and easy on the stomach for him.”

“Good morning, beloved,” Tony said, forcing himself to match the brightness of Steve’s smile, despite his cheerless disposition.

“More like afternoon,” Steve corrected before he put a hand on his hip, and asked, “What are you doing out of bed?”

“I was searching for my clothes,” Tony replied, perusing the room once again for them. “Where are they?”

Steve cringed like he didn’t wish to be reminded of them. “Someone took them to wash out the blood,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand as he walked in and sat upon the desk beside him.

“There was another set,” Tony pushed.

“Must have taken them as well,” Steve replied. “I’ll make inquiries. What are you doing with that?”

Tony let out a tragic sigh as he set down the picture frame upon the desk. “It’s good you stocked up enough nudes of me while I was still pretty.”

“It’s only a matter of time before you replenish all the blood you’ve lost and the color returns to your cheeks, my darling,” Steve said, tucking a loose lock of hair behind Tony’s ear.

“And what of this,” Tony asked, lowering the sheet to expose his bandages.

“Your first battle scar as a pirate?” Steve asked, drawing him closer to carefully wrap him in a loving embrace. “I will be drawing a lot more nudes of you in the future with it. That is not to say that I condone your actions,” he added, suddenly switching to a chastising tone. Steve cupped Tony’s face in both his hands, looked him in the eye, and said, “Tony, promise me, what you did will never be repeated, or so help me god, I will personally strip and inspect you after every mission.”

“I like the sound of that,” Tony smirked. “Go ahead, Captain, do what you have to do,” he purred, before dropping the sheets onto the floor and leaving himself bare for his lover’s inspection. The self-loathing, anxieties, and insecurities haunted him still, but he figured it was best to simply fake it till he made it. Honestly, sometimes he wished he could see himself through his lover’s eyes, that way, he would know once and for all, if Steve was simply a great liar, and if not, then who was this man that he saw when he looked at Tony.

“Well, there is this one thing I’ve been planning to do to that dirty _dirty_ body of yours all morning,” Steve said in a sexy drawl, taking his hand and leading him to bed.

“Yeah, what,” Tony asked, dropping onto the mattress rather dramatically, sprawled out in the most sensual, seductive, and damsel in distress pose he could strike after all his experience posing for nudes.

Steve—that insolent bastard, he had to remind himself he loved with all his heart—pulled up a tub and a sponge and began washing him like a patient under his care. He lifted up the arms they were made of glass, and with meticulous motions, he set out to work on him with the delicacy one would employ while nursing an injured bird to health.

Tony grabbed a pillow to scream into. “I was hoping for less nursing and more fucking,” he protested when he recovered from the shock of it all.

“Do you have any idea how much blood you’ve lost because of that stoic stunt you pulled?” Steve scolded him, his voice angry and harsh, but his hands just as gentle and soothing.

“I still have enough to get my cock back in business,” Tony said with a whine and a pout.

Steve almost hugged him as he wiped down his back and asked, “Is everything a joke to you?”

“Funny things are,” Tony replied, dropping a little kiss upon his sexy nurse’s cheek. “How long was I out, Cap?”

“Day and a half.”

“Why are we still at sea?”

“We were steered a bit off course after evading the storm,” Steve replied, lowering him to lie down on his back, and raising one of his legs over the strong shoulder in a far too familiar way to be of any help in reining in his passions. Tony purposely let out a wanton moan when Steve started from his thigh. He was so cruelly ignored as his lover went on, “Not to mention, the rigging is damaged and we have little to no wind. That’s the way of the sea. All or nothing. No half measures. Much like you actually,” he teased with a chaste kiss upon the freshly cleaned ankle.

“Much like me,” Tony asked, snapping out of his sexually charged haze. “I hate to break it to you, Cap, but you’re clearly the more unforgiving and tempestuous of the two of us.”

Steve scoffed. With a surprised and unamused shake of his head, he resumed the sponge bath and asked, “How so?”

“How,” Tony practically yelled. “You…you ask me how? How dare you? I was at my wit’s end since we set sail, vacillating between the fear and dejection of having lost your affections forever and the faint glimmer of hope of still having a shot at winning you back.”

“Why are you so goddamn dramatic?” Steve asked, taking his sweet time with Tony’s abs and inner thighs, while oh so cruelly ignoring the parts in between that craved his touch the most.

“How I am dramatic for thinking so when you were being so distant and cold?” Tony asked with a little glare, only to have the sponge land upon his hypersensitive cock, when he least expected. His resolve suddenly melted away in cries of pleasure. Steve was clearly enjoying his suffering for there was an evil grin plastered upon his face, while he teased Tony’s cock and balls with a gentle and loving touch, accompanied with an ominous promise that he wouldn’t receive satisfaction anytime soon.

“For a day, Tony, for a day,” Steve said, having him literally by the balls. “Why do I love your stupid ass so much?” he muttered, placing two pillows for him to prop under his head and stomach, so as to keep the chest from pressing upon the mattress, before he gestured him to turn around, face down and booty up for him to torture some more.

“Well, your little clinical blowjob and good luck kiss the next day, wasn’t very reassuring either,” Tony whined, grieving for his unsatisfied cock straining against the sheets with a newfound vengeance.

“I’ll show you clinical,” Steve challenged, wiping down his butt cheeks before he started grabbing and kneading them, pulling them apart so roughly at last to take forever to clean the valley within, teasing the rim of his butthole, poking it, circling it, doing ungodly things to it, until Tony was a sobbing moaning mess, begging for more and clenching his hole in anticipation for his cruel lover’s fingers. For a moment, he thought Steve would put him out of his misery. Maybe Cap even considered it. He would never know because there was a knock on the door. The sponge went back in its tub. Steve wiped his hands clean, plucked the sheets to cover Tony up, and gave the intruder permission to enter.

It was Scott. Ofcourse, it was Scott! As Tony groaned into his pillow, Scott asked, “Is he okay?”

“No, he’s clearly in a lot of pain,” Steve replied, being the little shit that he was.

Tony couldn’t stay mad at them when the belly rumbling aroma of chicken came wafting from the bowl Scott had brought in; still, he couldn’t help saying, “I’m going to make a seashell bikini armor for you, my little mermaid.”

“Umm…thanks, I guess, and its big merman buddy,” Scott said to Tony before he asked Steve, “Is that good armor?”

Steve simply shrugged.

“Are you hungry?” Steve asked, showing off the chicken soup he came bearing.

“Starving,” Tony replied with an innuendo and an eager nod. Scott took that as his cue to leave and Steve made his way to help Tony sit up backed by enough pillows to keep him comfortable as if he had completely lost the use of his limbs. Then, it got worse. Steve didn’t offer him the bowl like one would offer a grown adult. Oh, no. That would be far too dignified for poor old bed riddled invalid. No. He began spoon-feeding him like a child.

“What? Is it too hot?” Steve asked when Tony was having none of it…and then…and then he blew on it!

“I still have hands, you know,” Tony said, refusing to accept the proffered spoon.

“Yeah, but I thought I lost you twice in a day and I wish to take care of you. Humor me,” Steve said, batting his beautiful long eyelashes and pursing his lips in a petulant pout.

How could he say no to that? Tony accepted the spoonful of soup, then another, and another. He was no longer enveloped by the misery and wretchedness he felt on an empty stomach. Now he felt warm, content, and grateful for his lover’s indulgence.

“You know, Tony, about what you were saying earlier,” Steve began with an awkward sigh like bringing himself to say these words required him to perform a surgery to tear open his chest and carve them out of the depths of his heart. “I can see it all much more clearly from your perspective now but I believe you still don’t see it from mine. You see….” He offered spoonful after spoonful of soup to ensure he could speak without interruption. “You see, Tony, you’re not simply dramatic, but among the two of us, you’re clearly the more hot—”

“I’m going to ignore that first part and simply thank you for that compliment,” Tony interrupted him, before his cruel lover shoved another spoonful of soup into his mouth, this time with less care.

“I was going to say the more hot-headed one,” Steve clarified. “You want to talk things out or argue to completion that very instant. It’s all or nothing. If we’re not smooching and cuddling for one day, then it must be lost forever, and it’s the end of the world.” That cheeky bastard rolled his eyes when he was done with his terrible mimicry of him. “I really wish I could see what goes inside that brilliant, yet restless little head of yours, but I need you to understand that I’m not like you. When I’m angry, my heart turns to ice, and it takes a while for it to thaw out. I might ask for time and space while I process my feelings, but I need you to understand that no matter how angry I am with you, I will never stop loving you and caring about you.”

“Umm…” Tony managed to mumble with a mouthful of soup.

“I sent you below deck to sleep in the quarters, because Tony, you needed to carve out a place of your own among the crew, instead of simply being the Captain’s lover, tagging along for the journey to deal with a personal matter,” Steve explained. “I invited you to breakfast when I had cooled down enough to formulate a new plan for the sake of the mission but still wasn’t ready for more intimacy. I gave you that _clinical_ blowjob,” he muttered with a touch of hurt, “because you needed it at the moment. And I gave you that good luck kiss because I had let go of my anger and didn’t have the heart to send you off on a dangerous undertaking feeling so dejected and downcast. I love you, Tony. For me, it’s not some wild and passionate spur of the moment affair, which could come crashing down after one fight but something far more deep, rooted, and concrete.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Tony said, taking the empty bowl from his lover and setting it aside. “But I must say that even though I’m hot headed and impatient and I over think things, and my love for you is definitely quite wild and passionate, it is also way deeper than anything I’ve ever felt before, and I too, want something more concrete...and long lasting,” he said, running a hand through his lover’s beard, which glistened in the sunlight with little specks of gold among the light brown. Oh, how he missed this. To be wrapped up in his lover’s embrace, all of it heightened by the knowledge that his love was returned. Tony captured his lips in a proper kiss. None of that sweet and gentle chaste stuff he had been doling out to the poor little patient but something stronger, deeper, more grateful, needy, and hungry. “Steve,” he whispered, breathless, against his lover’s lips.

With a little shake of his head, Steve returned the kiss, much like the one which accompanied his first confession of love. Cap offered up all that he had in him, breathing all the love and life he had in him into Tony’s wanting mouth, which still craved and thirsted so much for this intimacy he thought he had lost for good only to have it return to him tenfold.

“You should rest now,” Steve said, at last, brushing their noses together.

“No wait,” Tony cried, grabbing his hand.

“Do you need something?”

“Yeah, cuddle with me,” Tony said with a petulant little pout, mustering all the pity his ailing form afforded him.

“Fine,” Steve said with a little laugh as he got into bed with him.

“And nurse,” Tony said in an overly innocent voice, “It would make me feel even better if you took off your shirt and flexed you pecs for me.”

“How?” Steve demanded even though the cocky little smile on his face didn’t help make a case for his outrage. “Please explain to me how that would aid in your recovery.”

“I’m glad you asked,” Tony replied in his most scientific tone. “You see, I risk ripping my stitches with these little displays of vanity that I simply live for, so now you must flex for two, my love.”

Steve chucked away his shirt with a disappointed yet amused shake of his head. Tony didn’t miss a moment before grabbing that bountiful bosom as soon as it was available to him and began pinching and toying with the nipples.

“How long do you plan on milking this to have your way with me?”

“Whatever do you mean, nurse, this is a highly therapeutic exercise for your weary patient,” Tony said with a devilish smirk and a wink because it was high time he exacted revenge for that teasing sponge bath.

“Anything else I can do to serve you, my lord,” Steve asked sarcastically.

“Well, I am in a lot of pain,” Tony purred, throwing back the words Cap had used to explain away his agony to Scott earlier.

“Where,” Steve asked, suddenly jerking up in alarm.

“Here,” Tony replied with a rolling motion of his hand to point in the general vicinity of his crotch.

“Tony,” Steve scolded him.

“What? Just have a look,” Tony said, all innocence and unawareness as he opened his legs for Steve. “And here’s a little something for you to rub out the ache.” He pulled out the bottle of olive oil from his bag—that Jarvis had packed explicitly for such _emergencies_ —with a coquettish smile and a suggestive little wiggle of his brows.

“All right, let’s have a look,” Steve said, abandoning his post where he lay cuddling with Tony. Steve tucked a pillow underneath his back, folded up his knees, and stretched them out as far as they would comfortably go to make a workstation for his ministrations. “Does it hurt here?” he asked, fondling with his balls.

“No, nurse, it’s either higher or lower,” Tony replied as he let his head fall back upon the pillow and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Here,” Steve asked, palming Tony’s cock.

“Yes,” Tony moaned.

“And here,” Steve asked, circling the rim of his gaping butthole with the deft fingers of his other hand.

“Oh god yes,” Tony moaned, digging his heels into the mattress, before he outright begged, “Please, Steve, please.”

“Please, what, Tony?” Steve asked in the same mock innocent tone which Tony implied to seduce him. Oh, karma, you sadistic harlot.

“You might need to massage the pain from there, please nurse, you must hurry,” Tony begged, even though his cruel lover’s deft fingers left his brain next to useless.

“On the contrary, I believe I must perform a taste test to get to the bottom of this,” Steve said, looking quite pleased with himself before he licked a trail up the cock and began circling its head, teasing him with every trick in his arsenal to keep him on edge. Just when Tony thought, the sweet bliss of release was well within his grasp, Steve left him crying and begging with a sudden plop, and declared, “Everything tastes fine here.”

“What? Steve, no,” Tony mumbled as he drew heavy breaths to compose himself, but before he could get another word out, it was no longer his cruel lover’s fingers that teased the rim of his hole but his tongue. “Oh my god, Steve, what are you doing?” Tony grabbed the blanket in fistfuls, his cock confused and exhilarated in equal measure, because what was it that Steve was doing? He had never done this before. Tony wasn’t even aware of such a thing. It was so strange and yet so deeply satisfying. He curled his toes. Nonsensical things escaped his lips, mostly a chant of his lover’s name and praises for his glorious tongue, which tantalized and tormented him in the best possible way. When Steve grabbed his dick, he thought for a second time, that he would get to come if only he was offered a few pumps, but sadly, Steve had other plans for him.

“I must admit, I’m enjoying this little game of yours, far more than all those times you had me play the ruthless pirate, taking whatever he wants from the helpless lord of the manor,” Steve teased, wiping his mouth with a borderline evil grin as he watched Tony trembling and whining beneath him.

“Nurse, you have only made things worse,” Tony scolded him at last.

“Then, I must further examine your hole,” Steve said with a little chuckle when the hole in question began fluttering in anticipation. He grabbed the bottle of oil to lubricate his fingers and shoved in one as a reward. 

Tony gasped, lost in the heady sensation of the finger teasing and toying with his prostrate in a way which was pure torture, giving him just enough to keep him wanting more, but never scratching the itch driving him insane. More. He needed more. He silently beseeched his cruel lover to put him out of his misery but he remained unrelenting. Tony shot him a more demanding glare to get what he wanted.

“It seems it’ll take more to get to the bottom of your problem,” Steve said, suddenly shoving in another finger, ruining his resolve by reducing him to wanton screams. Not long after, he added a third and began pounding into him in earnest until he was driven to the depths of desperation.

“Please, Steve, I can’t take it anymore,” Tony said, pulling Steve on top of him to leave a trail of desperate and steamy little kisses upon his neck, his face, and his lips. “I need you. I need you inside me,” he moaned, and it was that final whisper landing upon his cruel lover’s ear, accompanied by a kiss upon the earlobe, which made him shiver.

“Stitches, your stitches,” Steve reminded him as he propped himself up on his elbow to remain at a safe distance from his bandaged chest. 

“Stitches be damned,” Tony muttered when Steve suddenly pulled out his fingers, leaving him loose, gaping, and oh so empty. He…he needed…oh god…he unlaced his lover’s breeches and fisted out his cock with a rough unruly tug. Steve let out a conflicted grunt to chastise him for it while thrusting his pelvis to fuck his fist.

“As your nurse, I am going to spank you for saying such a thing,” Steve said, dropping onto the mattress beside him and turning him a little to the side to for his punishment. He dropped another slap on his butt. “Now, don’t interrupt my inspection.” With that, Steve pulled one of Tony’s legs over his hip and positioned the tip of his cock exactly where Tony needed it. Oh god, yes. At last. This is what he wanted. This is what he craved.

“What is that, nurse?” Tony asked because now the ball—or rather the monster cock—was finally in his court.

“An instrument much larger than my fingers to give you what you need,” Steve said, moaning into his ear as he pulled Tony closer, holding him by the shoulders, and dropping wet kisses along his neck.

“And why does it feel so fleshy?” Tony asked, letting his head fall back in ecstasy as he engulfed his lover’s cock in a tight embrace, pushing his hips back, matching his lover thrust for thrust, because he loved this man, and he loved him back, and he oh so desperately wished to stake that claim and to be claimed by him, to relinquish control whilst seizing it as well, to reclaim the intimacy he once thought he had lost.

“That’s because it’s my cock, Tony,” Steve said, ruining the game like he often did when he had had enough of the games and was far too preoccupied with chasing his climax.

“That is most inappropriate, nurse,” Tony said, slapping his arm to get him back onboard.

“How so,” Steve grunted.

“You’re not inspecting me,” Tony moaned, doing his best to sound shocked and scandalized. “I believe you’re fucking me.”

“How did you _come_ to that brilliant conclusion?” Steve mocked, pulling his cock all the way out to slam in with a hard thrust.

“Ah…because you have your cock inside me,” Tony cried, intertwining their fingers, now that after being brought to the brink of climax several times, only to be left high and dry, he could finally feel his orgasm approaching with his lover hell-bent on giving it to him.

“How else will I inject you with your medicine?” Steve whispered in his ear since his cruel lover knew exactly what that would do to him.

“Touch me,” Tony begged. Steve complied like the perfect nurse, touching his dick with gentle strokes, while he plowed into him with his monstrosity, stroking his prostate with every thrust. He was so close. So close. He could almost touch the stars floating in the darkness of his blissfully shut eyes. “Say it. Say it again, Steve. Tell me you love me.”

“I love you,” Steve whispered in his ear, and Tony came undone, all that teasing and edging paying off with the most intense orgasm of his life, leaving his body limp and boneless in his lover’s embrace.

“God, I love you, Steve, I love you so much,” Tony mumbled as he lay there taking all that Steve had to offer him until he too came inside him with a loud grunt. Tony had no recollection of how he got cleaned up or ending up nestled between his lover’s strong chest and folded knees, with a warm blanket covering his lower body. He looked up at that beautiful sun kissed face with a little smile and his lover dropped a little kiss upon his head. There was something so deeply satisfying about making love in the middle of the day, now that they loved each other enough for nether to crave wine or the cover of the night to lower inhibitions. There was no fear of discovery. No running clock or the need to sneak back into their divided lives in the morning. Here, out on the open sea, where they were beholden to no laws but their own, they could simply be and do as they pleased, and even though he escaped from the jaws of death _twice_ during this voyage, he knew that this was how he was meant to live his life. 

Tony nuzzled closer into Steve, if that was even possible, and asked, “Can I borrow something of yours to wear?”

“There’s only one thing I wish to see you wearing,” Steve replied, fishing something out of the pocket, before taking Tony’s hand in his and slipping something onto his ring finger. “Ah, it’s loose. Just as I expected. Do you think we can fix this in your workshop back home?”

Tony looked from Steve’s beautiful blue eyes to the sparkling little sapphire studded into the intricately carved insignia of the royal navy. “Is this? Steve, is this the last piece of your life as a royal navy captain?”

Steve nodded. “Now it is yours,” he said, kissing his hand right underneath the ring, “And I’m truly honored to relinquish it to you.”

“You don’t have to do this. I know you love me and you wish to lift my spirits but we both know that it is I who lost the wager. I got frightened, cold, and sick,” Tony said, waving a hand at his battle worn form as tears spilling from his eyes. He didn’t even know why he was crying. He just didn’t know how else to feel about the beautiful gesture but to be deeply overwhelmed. It made his broken heart burst with joy. But it also had all his self-doubts lurking out of the shadows and rearing their ugly heads. He was deeply flattered but he also knew he wasn’t worthy of the honor his lover bestowed upon him. Steve had been blinded by love. That was the only rational explanation for why he would give away his most prized possession to someone who was neither worthy of it nor had earned it in the least.

“Don’t you dare take it off,” Steve warned when Tony tried to return it. “You had cold feet and had doubts before your first mission, which is only human, and happens to the fiercest of pirates.”

“But—”

Steve put a finger upon Tony’s lips to shut down any protests. “And you were shot at! You almost drowned and suffered tremendous blood loss. What you wagered was that you would be able to fulfill your duties to the best of your capabilities, and Tony, you went above and beyond the call of duty. You didn’t just get us to our destination hours ahead of schedule but you led this ship safely in and out of a damn storm _while bleeding to death._ Not to mention, you’re the one who sabotaged the barricade, allowing us to slip away with all those ships that you pointed us to in the first place. You invented a concoction to set fire in the rain and singlehandedly fought off an army in that warehouse. You drowned,” he yelled, his voice cracking a bit. “When Scott pulled you out, we all thought you were dead.” Steve pulled Tony closer to his chest as he ran a gentle and loving hand through his hair. “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed the bandages, but Strange had to perform a serious surgery to close up the _little scratch_ you didn’t even bother telling us about,” he added venomously, pride and fury warring within his weary eyes. “That is what got you _sick and cold_.”

“Are you still cross with me over it?” Tony asked.

“No, I love you,” Steve shot back. “I love you, god damn it, and I want you to be safe and in good health.” He intertwined their fingers and began toying with the loose ring easily twirling around the finger. “This is yours. I want it to be yours. Now and forever. And I do not wish you to part with it just as I never wish to part with you.”

Tony looked up from where he sat with his head resting upon Steve’s chest and wondered why this felt so much more than just winning a wager. “I still feel like I owe you a ring too,” he said, lifting up his hand to see how the sapphire sparkled into the sunlight like a burst of stars. The pride and joy of serving as a bearer of such a big part of Steve’s identity was truly intoxicating, not to mention, this meant Steve didn’t consider him a failure, or inadequate, or not cut out to be a pirate, but deemed him brave and worthy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Dodo, tae_se0k, Lovesick23, wolfens, and especially Noa_NovaLight for that beautiful comment. Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
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	20. The Fault In Our Stars

Tony stood gripping the railing of the crow’s nest—the highest point atop the ship—to keep an eye out for navy ships patrolling the coast. He folded up the looking glass and tossed it back to Steve, who was done packing up the little picnic basket he had brought up for them to dine, in celebration of their last night at sea after a successful mission. Since Clint and Natasha left with the Caribbean crew, they all took turns with Hawkeye’s post as the lookout, and tonight the two of them volunteered to sleep up here. It was nice. Tony looked up at the clear starry sky. He never knew there were this many stars in the sky back when he lived in London, and a lot of them still evaded him even at his country estate, but here, with nothing for miles but the open sea, the sky came truly alive with all its celestial wonders.

It reminded him of another night they slept underneath the stars in the charming little meadow nestled deep within the forest. Oh, what a night that was. But that night belonged to the past, much like the triumph and troubles of their mission, and the future was an unknown thing pregnant with possibilities of adventure or danger. All they had was this moment when the winds and the sea and the starry sky belonged to them. He looked down at the glory of the ship cutting its way through the tide and the sails fluttering in the wind.

As he stood up here, with the sea breeze in his hair, he felt as free as a bird. Tony turned to Steve, who sat leaning against the pole, jutting out the center of the circular nest, as he smoked his pipe and looking up at the stars with a childlike wonder.

“Must we return home?” Tony asked, for that home only belonged to him, not them, and danger lurked at every corner, and they only had a few stolen moments at night. Now that he had tasted freedom, how could he return to that? How could he take the love of his life back to the place where his neighbors wished to hunt him for sport?

“Where else will you rest and recover?” Steve asked with an outstretched hand.

Tony took it and sat down beside him, taking the pipe from him to soothe his anxious mind. “We could sail to France, Italy, Greece, or Spain… Morocco. The world is our oyster. That could be our new life. What if…what if we just ran away together?” he asked, grasping for Steve’s ring hanging by a chain over his broken and bandaged up heart until it was resized.

Steve chucked. “You can’t just run away with me. You’re not simply Tony, the pirate, this ship’s Chief Engineer, and my lover; you’re also Lord Anthony Edward Stark, a Baron, an inventor, and a landowner. Your life and legacy are bound to British soil. And what of that,” he said, snapping his fingers to recall, “that new business plan to change the world with your farming machines? And what of your dogs, Tony, what of your dogs, who are waiting for you to return home? What of the child you just adopted?” That’s when reality sadly set in, for even birds aren’t free to roam the world, and must build their nests and have their babies.

“Fine, I was merely jesting,” Tony sighed, until he caught a glimpse of the sadness in Steve’s eye, and added, “Unless….”

“You belong to the land, my love, and if I keep you at sea with me, you will grow to resent me with time,” Steve said, reclaiming his pipe.

“Then what does this mean?” Tony asked, plucking out the ring from underneath his shirt.

“What do you think it means?” Steve threw the question right back at him.

Tony got up to make their makeshift bed for the night because there was no way he was having this conversation without something to keep his hands busy and his gaze literally anywhere but open to his cruel lover’s scrutiny. “I don’t know. It feels like something… something more… a promise… the promise of a future together.”

“I do want a future with you,” Steve said in that annoyingly calm and composed voice of his which was somehow frustrating and soothing at the same time.

“How?” Tony demanded.

“What do you mean how? However we can,” Steve replied.

“You always do this,” Tony said, dropping the pillow rather roughly. “You can’t demand full transparency and honesty from me while keeping all your cards close to your chest. Even during the mission, I was going mad, worrying about the rain and the barricade. You could have easily put me out of my misery by sharing your plans with me when I shared mine with you, but no, oh no, you must be the all-knowing captain with the big picture painted in his head, while the rest of us mere mortals should just take our little puzzle pieces and say _Aye Aye Captain_.”

“Well, that is how a crew works,” Steve said in a small doubtful voice.

“Steve,” Tony said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I can’t simply be an obedient little crew member, here to do the math for the winds, tides, and trajectory, when we also claim to love each other, share a bed, and I’m the guy pointing you in the direction of potential targets and giving you refuge on refuge on my property, while the entire countryside is out to get you.”

“We can drop you home and sail away to some other hideout if that makes you feel better,” Steve offered.

“God damn it, Steve, I’m not asking you to leave, I’m asking for a partnership among equals,” Tony said, slipping between the sheets with a huff, and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Like a marriage,” Steve asked, raising a brow.

“Well, no, I simply meant more open communication,” Tony said, turning to his side to face Steve, “like what do you mean by this _‘However we can’_ idea of a future together. Do we keep up with this secretive charade of you hiding under the cliff, me sneaking you into my room at night, and the two of us setting sail together from time to time? Or do our vows of something more concrete and long-lasting, instead of just a wild and passionate affair, actually mean something? Or did my flare for dramatics read far more into it than you intended?”

With a little smile and a shake of his head, Steve rose from where he sat and slipped into the sheets alongside him. “In the spirit of honesty and openness, I confess that I didn’t really think things through beyond this voyage but this seems like a good time as any to figure it out together,” he said, pulling him closer, and placing their joined hands over his heart as they lay there gazing at the stars.

“I just thought,” Tony said in a small voice. “That first night we dined together, didn’t you mention you pirates have that thing,” he added with a dismissive wave of his hand, “to forge a marriage-like partnership, which is sexual in nature most of the time, sometimes even romantic, and rarely monogamous. Well, we have all three. And we have these rings we wagered.” He shook his head in bewilderment because where the hell was he even going with this?” “And—”

“Matelotage?” Steve interrupted.

Tony nodded before burying his face into Steve’s bosom out of embarrassment.

“Are you proposing we should be mates?” Steve asked with a little laugh, flipping Tony onto his back so he would have no choice but to look him in the eye, while trapped underneath his hulking form.

“Yes?”

“You little gold digger,” Steve joked, pressing the tip of his finger to Tony’s nose. “One voyage, no wealth, and wants to go halfsies with a powerful and wealthy, not to mention notoriously famous, pirate captain with a ship and a treasure horde.”

“Hey,” Tony protested, “I have plenty of wealth, or have you completely forgotten the giant mansion where you used to squat?”

“All that wealth is tied to English law and land. It does not count. Pirate law is limited to wealth acquired through piracy. Not to mention, the law of you gentlefolk doesn’t even acknowledge matelotage, so I will never be considered your next of kin no matter how many years you spend calling me husband, my love. Also, don’t forget that I will be hanged if I so much as interact with any of your lawmen, much less, stake my claim upon half your mansion,” Steve clarified. “As mates, your title and property will be your own. My wealth, on the other hand, would be _ours_.”

“How much wealth could you possibly possess?” Tony asked, raising a brow for he never truly considered Steve rich, mostly because his idea of wealth was so tied to law and land, and on solid ground, in the world of law-abiding citizens, he always considered himself to be the richer of the two. Though, a ship so large and beautiful must surely cost as much as a mansion. Hmm. This certainly complicates things. He got so caught up in the romance of it all that he forgot why the institution of marriage exists in the first place. His lawyer once told him marriage is the second most legally and financially significant event for an individual, after death and the distribution of estate that follows.

“I have more than enough,” Steve replied with a chaste kiss.

“Steve, are you… Are you rich?”

“Of course, I’m rich,” Steve replied. “Don’t be silly. You know exactly how much the wine we drink costs.”

“Well, I could be rich too if I didn’t forsake my share from this mission,” Tony pointed out.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re a penniless pirate,” Steve teased, now kissing his neck in earnest, because somehow this was doing something for him, even though it left Tony more and more confused by the moment.

“Well, in traditional marriages, what I did with helping you seize your greatest treasure would count as me bringing in a handsome dowry,” Tony pointed out, seizing his lips in a kiss, because now he knew his cruel lover was playing a game, just like he made him play the pirate, the robber, and the nurse in bed. Since Steve never came up with a sex game of his own making before, Tony was dying to get to the bottom of this sugar daddy kink of his. “And rich men marry penniless beauties all the time, beloved.”

“Ah, my penniless beauty resorts to seduction, I see,” Steve teased, searching the basket for the bottle of olive oil he had brought along. Tony didn’t waste a moment before getting rid of his breeches and climbing onto his lover’s lap, wearing nothing but the oversized shirt he borrowed from him.

“Well, a man’s got to eat,” Tony purred into his ear before kissing and nibbling upon it.

“Oh yeah,” Steve asked, pushing two lubricated fingers into him since his hole hardly got time to shrink back to its normal size with the constant stuffing from his insatiable lover.

“Yeah,” Tony moaned. “You like taking care of me, don’t you, my captain?” he added in a little whisper as he ran his hands all over his lover’s torso.

“That I do,” Steve grunted, adding another finger in what was his first time being quick and rough and desperate to get inside him.

“So that’s how it’s going to be out here, huh, you taking care of all my needs and me dropping my pants for you whenever you tell me to?” Tony asked, suddenly abandoning the fingers and impaling himself upon the monster cock. Oh, to be so full. Steve always loosened him up way too much before taking him gently. This is what he always wanted, to ride that dick, not slow and tender, but hard and fast while it stretched him out. Tony let his head fall back, gazing at the starry sky as the wind rustled through his hair and he fucked himself to his heart’s content.

“I must admit, I love the prospect of plundering that booty whenever and however I wish,” Steve smirked, grabbing, squeezing, and manhandling his buttocks as he drew him up and threw his ass back upon the cock like Tony weighed nothing.

“It wouldn’t be plundering when it’s your property, beloved,” Tony said, running his hands up his lover’s strong chest.

“Yeah, then I would simply plow it,” Steve whispered in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “Fertilize it. Plant my seed.”

Tony let out a loud cry.

“Oh, you would love that, won’t you, my little harlot,” Steve demanded, grabbing a fistful of his hair to force him to meet his piercing gaze, and there was something so beautifully intoxicating about staring right into those blue eyes as he sat in his man’s lap getting fucked.

“Aww, look at you talking all dirty at last,” Tony said, dropping a kiss upon his lover’s lips. “Now spank me,” he ordered. He didn’t have to ask twice.

Steve fell back onto the pillow, watching Tony ride him in amazement. He dug his feet into the floorboards before he began relentlessly pounding into his, matching thrust for thrust and groping and spanking his ass without an ounce of care or concern he afforded his injured upper body.

“Steve…” Tony cried as he came asunder. His lover let out a sigh of relief as he was no longer obliged to hold it in and came in what felt like an endless fountain leaving him filled and satiated to the brim.

“That was fantastic,” Steve said at last when they came down from their high, got cleaned up, and lay cuddling and stargazing while smoking from the same pipe. “But in all seriousness, I think you would make for a great mate.”

“Yeah,” Tony asked, a bit over the moon.

“Even if I set aside my love for you, and my heart’s desire to have you by side forever, your contribution to my pirate company is colossal and I can put my ship in your able hands with blind faith now. You’re that good.”

“I’m not half as good at anything as I am when I’m doing it next to you.”

Steve smiled.

“But what of your fears of me being a fortune hunter,” Tony teased to soften the blow of that over the top sappy declaration of love with some good old fashioned humor.

“Come on, Tony, you gave up more fortune than I have ever known for what you believed to be right,” Steve said, running a loving hand through his hair. “That being said, I think we’re due a long conversation about the finer details of matelotage, all our assets—even though yours are irrelevant for the most part—all my hideouts, and what my life looks like outside of the couple of weeks I spend on your estate. We also need to map out the details of how a potential partnership would work given your life divided between the land and the sea.”

“Can’t we just wing it?” Tony asked, still basking in the glory of that glorious orgasm he just had.

“Winging it because _we’re in love_ ”—Steve rolled his eyes—“is for young lovers who think buying an outfit and a cake for the wedding is the most important decision to be made before signing up for a lifetime of misery in an unplanned nightmare of a marriage. We’re both over thirty. And as a rich gentleman, who made it to almost forty without a wife, I expected more pragmatism from you. We can’t enter a lifelong partnership without proper planning and discussion.”

“Fine, I’m all ears,” Tony said, with one hand intertwined with his lover and another wrapped around the ring hanging over his heart.

Oh, boy. After hours of talking and discussing, Tony realized he knew absolutely nothing about the man he wanted to commit to for life. He didn’t just live out on the sea, drifting from place to place on the ship like a vagabond. How did Tony’s wild imagination even come up with that silly romantic notion, well maybe, for the same reason he thought living in the countryside would be all peace, solitude, and natural beauty, and not nosy neighbors, their small-mindedness, and annoying as hell landowner meetings. He didn’t even know his lover had a charming little cottage back in Ireland. That was his home. He didn’t have the first clue about it. The worst of it was Steve’s elaborate planning around their time on Tony’s estate, pointed out one fact which always filled his heart with dread, but he wasn’t prepared to admit until now: their life at his countryside estate had an expiration date. If he stayed here, he would lose the love of his life, either to the unsustainable nature of the arrangement or to his neighbors.

“Oh, and did I ever tell you about my family?” Steve asked, pulling him back from his reveries. What? Oh god, no. Steve has a family. Of course, he does. Everyone has a family. As an unwed orphan with no siblings, Tony often forgot how family is such a huge part of most people’s life. Damn, Steve was right. They really needed to have this elaborate discussion.

“Umm, no,” Tony replied when he caught a glimpse of approaching land. My, god. How long had they been having this conversation? He was the one who wished for them to have this talk, but he finally realized what it means when they say, careful what you wish for. Oh, how he wished he had Pepper to help plan all this out for him instead.

“We should also discuss children since you adopted one and I—”

“Steve, Steve, look, land,” Tony said, drawing his lover’s attention away from all this talk which was making him quite anxious and giving him a case of cold feet far worse than he experienced before the mission.

“Oh, we’ll continue with this later then,” Steve said, helping him climb up his back because the man had no qualms fucking him all the time but god forbid if he risked pulling his stitches while climbing down the rope ladder.

“Ugh, when will be done with all this talking?” Tony whined. “Just marry me already.”

“This is a big decision. Let me take my time. And now that you’re returning to your life as a respectable lord, you would benefit from some reflection and introspection of your own. Things might change. You might realize you belong only to the land, and this was a one off adventure, and your commitments lie elsewhere, and it’s unwise to bind yourself to a pirate for life,” Steve said in his confident captain’s voice but with more a hint of insecurity in it.

“No,” Tony replied vehemently. “Never. I would choose you. I would always choose you. Choose me, beloved. Say yes.”

“Don’t rush me,” Steve chuckled. “We’ve returned home victorious with plenty of time to rest and recuperate and think things through. What’s the hurry? Tell you what, as soon as I’m ready to say yes, I’ll come to collect that ring you owe me.”

“Deal,” Tony said with a little kiss upon his cheek.

This time, from a very different vantage point, he watched _The Avenger_ steal in towards the land as she had done his first evening here when he stood at the cliff and watched her emerge from the horizon, premonition and a promise of great things to come already taking hold of his heart. Ah, the sweet sorrow of returning home but parting with his lover.

“Last chance to just run away together,” Tony teased.

Steve shook his head. “You know, sometimes I feel like when you look at me, all you see is a ship and an adventure,” he said as he jumped onto the deck and set him down to go do his duty helping steer the ship through the rocky shore, leading to the caved-in beach, concealed in the heart of the cliff. 

“I also see a very sexy man I desire and adore,” Tony replied, slapping Steve’s butt before taking his post at the helm. “You know,” he said, turning to walk backward, “I could say the same. That you look at me and all you see is a boring ass port to park your ship”—he winked at his clever innuendo—“and I’m far more exciting than that, love.”

“Home,” Steve yelled out from behind him. “I think the word you’re looking for is home because that’s what you are to me, my home.”

Tony raised a hand to his heart and pretended to be shot by a bullet to the heart because he had learned to laugh at it now.

“Too soon,” Steve chastised him because the trauma was still far too fresh in his mind.

This was a test Tony was looking forward to since it required great expertise to maneuver a ship this size safely inside, especially in the darkness of the night. He grasped at the spokes of the helm and began spouting orders to the crew for what he needed from them. Before he knew it, the ship was safely docked on his private beach. They had successfully dragged her back home but she was in no condition to set sail anytime soon. The crew would soon have to commence work on the repairs.

“Let me have a look at your stitches before you leave,” Bruce offered.

“Go ahead,” Tony said taking off his borrowed shirt and tossing it back to Steve.

Wanda emerged from the quarters below deck, carrying a very sleepy Harley in her arms, and asked, “Are you fit to carry him upstairs?”

“Yes,” Tony replied.

“No,” Bruce chimed in while cutting undressing the wound with great care.

“How are you feeling, lad?” Tony asked, running a hand through the boy’s hair.

“Cold,” Harley replied in a little voice, pulling the blanket he was wrapped in closer.

“Oh, yeah,” Tony challenged since he realized he child was probably just so starved for motherly affection that he was simply using the excuse of cold on a pleasant summer night to have Wanda coddle and coo to soothe him. “I think he just doesn’t want to part with you.”

“You think so,” Wanda asked, brightening up. “Jarvis wants children but I was never certain if I have a motherly disposition, but now, I think I do like children.” Hmm. Well, he could kill two birds with one stone. He was planning on hiring a nanny for the child anyway but this could be the perfect excuse for her sudden addition to the staff. A more conservative hairstyle, a simple dress, and no witchy jewelry, and she would fit right in with no suspicion. Not to mention, what a great service it would be to his friend Jarvis whom he missed so dearly. Jarvis deserved to happy and not constantly sneaking around to steal a few moments with his woman. Maybe Tony couldn’t take his lover upstairs and live with him as he desired to but Jarvis and Wanda could certainly have that traditional domestic bliss of the butler and the nanny serving in the same household falling in love and getting married. It happens all the time.

“Why don’t you move into the mansion as the boy’s nanny?” Tony asked and he could see the same realization hit her like a storm.

“Won’t that be suspicious?” Wanda asked.

“No, I’ll say I adopted an abandoned orphan and hired you during my trip to London,” Tony said. “Just change your appearance a bit and you will easily blend in with the staff. Jarvis will help you with that.”

“Thank you,” Wanda replied.

“I cast a spell to light up the fireplace in Jarvis’s room, he must be here any moment now,” Strange reported. “Hey, it’s not supposed to look like that,” he said, leaning in to examine Tony’s chest.

“I was thinking the same,” Bruce concurred. “It should have started healing by now but it looks just as bad as it did when we closed it up.”

“Is it serious?” Steve asked.

“I can’t say,” Bruce said. “I’ll come along with you upstairs. As the town’s apothecary, I have my cover intact and given the other harder to conceal wounds”—he pointed to the cuts and bruises on his face—“we can spin a story that you got into a bar fight and summoned me to heal you. Once you have a proper bath, I will need to clean and redress it with the level of care this issue requires,” he said, wrapping the bandages haphazardly back in place.

Suddenly, they heard a high pitched call from the top of the stairs carved into the cliff. Steve replied with his signal. Jarvis came rushing down the stairs with a rather worried look on his face. His face was white and haggard like the face of a man who hadn’t slept well for days and he faced Tony as if he had just seen a ghost. Was he simply concerned about his injuries or…?

“What’s the matter, Jarvis?” Tony asked.

“Sir, Lady Virginia Potts arrived today. Just before sundown,” Jarvis said between gasping for breath.

“Pepper is here?” This was great news. Why was Jarvis so shaken up by it?

“Yes, sir, with a party of five,” Jarvis replied.

“Five? There’s obviously Happy,” Tony asked, thinking out loud, but when the butler tilted his head trying to guess who that was, he clarified, “Harold Hogan. Who else? Is James Rhodes here as well?” He sent Pepper and Happy his designs, and wrote to Rhodey, suggesting his new business could serve an employment opportunity for the people he rescues and rehabilitates, but he expected it to work out the finer details through letters. Why did they all simply show up announced?

“Yes, sir, and Miss Potts brought along some friend of hers,” Jarvis said before switching to a grave and ominous tone, “but most importantly, there is another gentleman who tagged along with them. Obadiah Stane.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you, Dodo, tae_se0k, Lovesick23, chloestar05, wolfens, and the lovely new commentor Stay_Wayward_AF (twilight_moon09) for leaving comments and keeping me motivated. And Dodo, your evil wish has been granted with that wound. I hope you're happy lol.  
> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	21. Homecoming

There was no time for a romantic farewell, so Tony bid Steve and the crew goodbye with a firm reminder to get the ship ready to set sail as soon as possible. He had a gaping pit at a bottom of his stomach warning him of terrible things to come. Why were Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey here with Obi? He thought they had gotten away with the mission. This visit implied otherwise. Tony, Jarvis, Bruce, Wanda, and Harley, sleeping in her arms, stealthily ascended the stairs cut into the cliff before they locked up and concealed the door in the wine cellar since any of the new guests could use it to go down to the beach otherwise. He simply wouldn’t have it. This door would remain locked, as would the wine cellar, and only Jarvis would serve as the keeper of the keys.

In perfect silence, they tiptoed their way to the master bedroom. Tony was glad his dogs were so tired and sleepy, didn’t make a sound to wake up the guests, and instead, only came to snuggle up with him on the sofa while Jarvis lit up the candles. The room was as well kept as it was the day he left. His lovely butler had even put lilies-of-the-valley in all the vases for as warm a welcome a situation like this could afford. He loved the freedom of the sea but he had missed these finer details of his comfortable life here; maybe that’s what Steve meant when he said returning home might remind that he belonged to the land; he would be lying if he said it wasn’t nice to have these little treats and comforts of his life and to stand in a room built on solid ground and didn’t shake or sway all the time.

“Why did they come, Jarvis? Did they give you any reason?” Tony whispered, running a hand through Dummy’s fur.

“From their conversation at supper, I gathered that Miss Potts and her friend were rushing here to settle some urgent matter when Mister Hogan and Rhodes volunteered to accompany them for their safety and to discuss business matters with you,” Jarvis recanted. He switched to a more skeptical tone as he added, “Sir Stane _ran into_ Mister Hogan at a tavern right before they were scheduled to depart. He was invited to tag along after he told a tragic tale of his misfortune and expressed an interest in getting involved in your new venture.”

“Like hell, he is,” Tony spit out in a venomous tone because there is no way he would ever do business with the likes of Stane. “How did you explain away my whereabouts?”

“Forgive me, sir, but I had no choice but to repeat the lie I told the staff,” Jarvis replied. “I told them you were in London attending to an urgent business matter.”

“Oh God,” Tony sighed, running a hand over his face. He truly had dug his own grave this time. “How did they react to that?”

“Shock,” Jarvis replied. “Lady Potts was more than displeased that you were in town and didn’t call on her and they had made the mistake of coming here to await your arrival while you were still there.”

“I can spin this. I can,” Tony muttered. “I will figure something out.”

“I will have the horse you rode to _London_ ”—Jarvis smirked—“returned to the stables first thing in the morning.”

“There is something else I need you to do first. This child,” Tony said, pointing towards Harley sleeping in Wanda’s arms. “He will be living with us for now. Put him up in my old room. Some of my clothes from boyhood are still well preserved. They should do for now. But go buy him some new clothes, toys, and books whenever you’re off to run errands in town.”

“It would be my honor, sir,” Jarvis said, plucking the boy from Wanda’s arms with a big smile on his face.

“And help her blend in here in the role of his nanny,” Tony added to Jarvis’s great pleasure.

“If I may be so bold,” Bruce chimed in, “Could you also please draw a bath for him and fetch a bowl of hot water and some towels for me to tend to his wound.”

“At once, sir,” Jarvis said with a little bow. “Shall I have the bathhouse prepared?”

Tony gulped. Visions of being engulfed by the sea filled his mind. Death. Cold. In his mind’s eye, he was once again at the bottom of the sea, gasping for breath and helpless underneath the crushing weight of the armor.

“Sir,” Jarvis asked, sounding quite concerned. That’s when he realized that he forgot how to breathe for a moment.

“No, no, no bathhouse,” Tony blurted out. “Just have a tub brought up to my room. That would do.”

Jarvis left to prepare for a busy night ahead of him, with a house full of guests, and secrets to be kept for the two masters he served, the lord of the manor and the pirate hiding right under all their noses. Bruce had set everything up by the time Jarvis returned with the hot water and the towels. He commenced his work upon the mutilated chest with great care, though all the things that weighed upon Tony’s mind had rendered him completely desensitized to pain or horror at the sight of the ugly wound. His butler, on the other hand, had a harder time ignoring it while he set up the bathtub and dropped into it all the antiseptic tinctures and potions the apothecary gave him to add to the bath.

“Now, don’t submerge this part of your chest into the water,” Bruce ordered. “And call me when you’re done with your bath. I’ll dress the wound.”

“Thanks, Bruce,” Tony said with a half-smile and a pained wince.

“I can’t figure out what the issue is at this point but I think I will start checking up on the wound twice a day,” Bruce said in his best attempt to sound reassuring but Tony could read him too well by now to sense the anxiety and the fear underneath it.

“Jarvis,” Tony called.

“Yes, sir,” Jarvis asked.

“Prepare the room, next to mine for Bruce. There’s no point in having him walk back and forth from town twice a day for however long this drags on,” Tony said, waving a disgruntled hand at his sewed up chest. “Where did you put up Obi?”

“They are all settled into the other wing,” Jarvis replied. “And Mister Stane is in the guestroom farthest away from your room.”

“Thank you, Jarvis,” Tony said with a smile for this kind of thoughtfulness is why he missed this man so much. He slipped into the tub when they both left to get Bruce settled into his new room, and he simply couldn’t help but reflect upon the apothecary’s anxieties as he took a good look at the cut for the very first time. It looked absolutely disgusting. A rotting dead thing. He couldn’t recognize his own chest. Logically, he knew he was looking down at his own body, but there was an eerie disconnect as if it wasn’t him but someone else’s sewed up corpse he was looking down upon. It even reeked of death. What did it mean? He thought the worse was behind him and he only had healing to look forward to, but from what he had gathered from Bruce and Strange’s discussion, he wasn’t healing at all. Why was that?

He grabbed a small hand-held mirror lying nearby. He hadn’t seen his reflection ever since he had set sail with the crew. God, he looked like shit. Now, in the silence and solitude of his room, his mind finally unpacked the Pandora’s Box of all that had occurred in the last five days. He tried to relax but he simply couldn’t. The flashes kept invading and plaguing his mind on a constant loop: the storm, the battle in the warehouse, the explosion, the gunshots to the chest, the drowning, and the snatches of memories of his surgery. They all returned to haunt him in the silence of the night.

Tony buried his head in his hands. Now, there was no Steve to distract and take care of him; they were separated with two locked doors and a cliff between them; moreover, there was no inner voice telling him he needed to be brave for his lover. Here, in the quiet solitude of his room, he was simply human. A weak, vulnerable, and broken human. He didn’t even realize when he began to cry or how it escalated to all out sobs; he only realized his miserable state of being when he saw his dog surrounding him on both sides, with their little paws grasping the edge of the tub as they licked his arms to comfort him.

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” he said as much to himself as he did to assure them.

“Sir, would you like my assistance in washing out your hair?” Jarvis asked from where he stood at the doorframe.

“Yes, Jarvis, sure, come on in,” Tony replied, discreetly wiping his tears. “I need an outsider’s perspective,” he began when the butler began washing his hair and could not see his face, “Do you think Steve and I have a real shot at a future together?”

“Well, it depends, sir. What is it that you want?” Jarvis asked.

“Does it even matter what I want?” Tony asked, clutching the ring hanging over his chest. That ball was in Steve’s court now. And tomorrow, the sun would come up, and he would be reminded of just how wildly different their worlds were and all the obligations and commitments he was bound to here. He looked up at Jarvis, expressing his eyes, things he could never articulate with words.

“It will all work out, sir. You two will be together again,” Jarvis said, putting a hand over his shoulder in support. Maybe it was because of the anticlimax of his homecoming or because he was so damn tired or because of the comfort he received from the butler and the dogs, he once again felt tears streaming down his cheeks and he was unable to stop them.

“I’ve been so damn foolish,” Tony muttered. “Maybe that’s what happiness does to one’s senses.”

“I wouldn’t call it foolish, sir.”

“We were so high on the sun, the wind, the sea, the romance of it all, our victory, and freedom such as never experienced before—”

“I can imagine, sir.”

“Whatever happens now, at least we had that,” Tony said bitterly. “No one can take that from us. I have destroyed all my weapons, found love, and I still alive, despite all of this,” he said, pointing at his chest. “Please, let Bruce know that I’m ready to have my wound dressed and don’t wake me up in the morning. Let me rest. Whenever I rise and am sufficiently prepared for the ordeal, I will come downstairs to greet my guests and find out how long they intend on staying.”

“Good night, sir,” Jarvis said with a little pat on his shoulder before leaving him alone with his thoughts in the dark candle-lit room. He would shed no more tears. It was time to strategize for what’s to come. How would he see his lover again now that he was no longer alone in the mansion and it was crucial to keep him hidden from everyone? What was this urgent matter which brought Pepper here? Why was Obi really here? There was a very small pool of people who were aware of the merchant ships he was bringing in that night. Not to mention, Obi was already suspicious about the circumstances of the first arson he committed and asked all sorts of interrogative questions during their journey back from India. Had he finally put two and two together?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Lovesick23 and EmeriB_98 for your lovely comments on the last chapter. This ones a short update and not much happens in this but I didn't want to brush everything under the rug for all that Tony is going through just for the sake of the plot. Don't worry, the ball will start rolling in the next chapter.  
> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	22. Ghosts of the Past

It was a cursed haunted tune which woke him that afternoon, filling the air with a deep sense of melancholy. Tony hadn’t heard that sound in this house in years, for his mother’s pianoforte remained untouched ever since she died. Who was it that dared disturb its peace? Tony grabbed his silk robe and rushed downstairs at once. As he barged into the main hall, Pepper, Happy, and Jarvis turned to the door with a start, and in the corner, where the pianoforte sat atop its little stage undisturbed, sat Obi, that bald bastard, fingering its keys like he owned the place. He knew. He was there when they put her mother in the ground and he knew just how much he despised anyone playing the instrument, which only evoked painful memories of her passing, yet he was incapable of parting with the wretched thing for it was also tied to almost every happy memory of her time here. Obi was aware of it. He either did not care or was deliberately trying to get on his nerves.

“What’s with this doom and gloom music? One would think this is a bloody haunted house if they passed by the house this afternoon,” Tony taunted him without letting him under his skin any more than he absolutely must.

“You don’t seem pleased to see me,” Obi observed.

“Why should I be?” Tony asked.

“Anthony, that is so rude,” Pepper interjected. “You visit London in secret god only knows why, were absent when we showed up yesterday, and now you barge in here….” She let out an ungodly squeal as his pups, Dummy and Hugh, began jumping up and down her skirt in their raw unbridled daytime energy bursts.

“Your life as a recluse in the Cornish countryside has made you rather venomous,” Obi said with a hearty chuckle which didn’t quite meet his eye.

“Good boys,” Tony said with a smirk and a couple of pats for the dogs, all the while ignoring the elephant in the room, “Give Pepper a proper welcome to make up for keeping her waiting _one night_.”

“Get down now, you little devils,” Pepper muttered, torn between giving in to the adorable welcome or have her new silk gown riddled with dog fur and drool.

“Perhaps, this _is_ a haunted house,” Obi declared as he rose from the bench and descended the stairs like a king stepping down from his throne. “I was terrified of all the noises that disturbed my sleep in the middle of the night.”

“I assure you there was no ghost prowling these halls. I arrived late last night and my butler had to haul up a tub and draw me a bath all by himself,” Tony replied with a little shrug.

“Why would you travel at night through a county infested with pirates?” Happy asked, overprotective as usual. “On our way here, everyone warned us of robbery, rape, and violence causing havoc amongst the people. That’s why Rhodes and I volunteered to escort the ladies here.”

“Robbery, sure, but the rest is merely a product of panic,” Tony scoffed.

“Were you robbed?” Pepper asked in a panicked high pitched voice. “Oh my god, Anthony, is that why you look like this.”

“Like what?” Tony asked making sure his chest was properly covered by the robe.

“You do look like shit,” Happy said, waving a hand in the general direction of Tony’s face, and only then did he recall all the little cuts and bruises which hadn’t fully healed yet. Damn it, he meant to put on some makeup before greeting his guests, but thanks to Obi’s annoying wake-up call, it completely slipped it his mind.

“What do you say to that, Jarvis, do I look so bad?” Tony sassed.

“Only the shadows underneath your eyes and the obvious weariness, _sir_ ,” Jarvis replied in that cheeky tone of his. “And I must say, that is a rather common occurrence whenever you’re inspired to work.”

“You better leave the room before I throw something at you, Jarvis,” Tony warned.

“Very well, sir,” Jarvis replied as he took his leave. “Will you be joining your guests for lunch? It will be served in an hour.”

“Of course, he will be joining us,” Pepper replied for him.

“What sort of a servant is he?” Obi asked the instant Jarvis left the room but was still within earshot. “I would have dismissed him for having such audacity if he were my butler.”

“Jarvis is a treasure, the best butler I have ever had,” Tony replied with a forced half-smile for Obi.

“What do you see in the fellow?” Happy asked, genuinely curious, unlike Obi, who was simply being a dick.

“He is quiet, he is discreet, he walks soundlessly, and nobody else in this house is a match for him in that respect,” Tony replied.

“Extremely desirable qualities in a manservant,” Obi mused, implying something he didn’t quite infer until he made his meaning clearer. “As long as he pleases you, that’s all that matters to you anyway.” Obi closed the distance between them and put a heavy arm over his shoulder, drawing him closer in a half-hug or a chokehold, no one could ever tell. There was never warmth or intimacy to Obi’s touch, even though he might be the handiest man in all of England. He always stood tall, towering over the object of his unwelcomed affections, and invaded their personal space to display his strength, assert his dominance, and make them uncomfortable. When Tony was young, he gave Obi the benefit of the doubt that he might not be great with social cues, but now he knew this was intentional, every time that blood-curdling uneasiness reverberated through his body in the man’s presence. It was a bullying tactic. That’s what it was. There was something more to it as well. It had always made him repulsed by his touch, especially when he was a boy and Obi was a little too eager to have him on his lap, or on rare occasions, when he made the mistake of getting drunk with the man later in life.

Now that Tony was no longer in denial about his true nature and was in a committed relationship with a man, he looked back upon those moments with a new light, and wondered if Obi remained an unwed bachelor without a wife until this age for the same reason as him and Steve. Though, there he was something so sinister about his approach to it all. Until this day, he recalled the drunken night Obi’s hands took too much liberty with him during their carriage ride back home. He had to muster up what little sobriety that remained in him to shut the door on him when he insisted upon escorting him to bed to make sure he was _fine_. He had spent years pretending he had no recollection of that night. But he remembered. He would never forget it. And for all of Obi’s transgressions, it was that one he could never forgive.

Tony did not meet Obi’s eye but put him at an arm’s length with a little push like it was a joke or a game among old friends.

“Sorry for disturbing your sleep with that tragic tune,” Obi sighed. “I’m afraid I’m still mourning the loss of my fortune, my boy,” he said, again with an insistent squeeze upon his shoulder. “It seems this infernal Rogue Irishman of yours sailed his vessel right into my harbor, right under the noses of the sailors and the soldiers, and made away with my entire fleet.”

“How do you know it’s the same pirate?” Tony asked with an air of nonchalance.

“His ship of course: _The Avenger_ ,” Obi replied. “They were at least competent enough to make a note of it, even though they failed miserably at sinking him, despite having the high ground, a castle mounted with canons, and a warship on their side,” Obi said, growing angrier and angrier with every word. “They even blew up your last batch of your weapons,” he added in a tone which implied he expected some shock and outrage from Tony.

“My goodness, how did they pull that off?” Tony asked, clutching Steve’s ring, hanging by a chain around his neck, concealed underneath his robe.

“That’s the oddest part of it,” Obi said. “They claim some man clad in armor like that of a medieval knight, singlehandedly fought them all off and burned down the warehouse with an accelerant never seen or heard of before. No one could make heads or tails of it when I arrived there the next morning to check up on this one delivery that my entire fortune was riding upon. All of it. Gone.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that. In an unnatural fire that couldn’t be put out even by a raging storm. You should have seen it. Burning like hellfire, far worse than that similar case of arson we both witnessed in India.”

“How tragic,” Tony said in his best impression of sympathy. “Pepper, why don’t you play a happy tune on the piano to cheer up Obi?”

Pepper glared at him.

“I don’t need cheering up,” Obi spewed in an acidic tone. “And you seem rather unfazed by it all,” he asked, sounding suspicious now. “They were your weapons, after all.”

“But you see, Obi, I am done with that trade and gave up my fortune to live out the rest of my days here in peace,” Tony said, pouring himself some tea from the kettle sitting upon the table. “What does it matter to me what happens to my weapons now?”

“From what I hear, you’re already tinkering your way out of retirement,” Obi said with a little grin. “I would love to see these new designs and prototypes you’ve been working on.”

“It’s merely farming equipment inspired by my simple life here,” Tony said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Nothing exciting. I don’t wish to bore you with it.”

“You sound like a changed man. Responsible too,” Pepper chimed in. “That’s what I was hoping for when I set out on this journey.”

“Well, thank you, Miss Potts,” Tony smiled. “Not that we know why you’re here,” he said, paying no heed to her unspoken protest to elaborate upon her motives, and turned to Obi to ask, “Why is it that brings you here and how long do you plan on staying?”

“Oh, is that how you welcome a grieving old friend who has been ruined and left practically destitute?” Obi asked with a petulant pout. Tony didn’t answer. He wasn’t falling for the guilt trip since he was the one who did all the ruining and rightfully so. “If you’re going to be like that, then I will have you know that I am not here entirely for pleasure but on business as well. I plan on catching that damned pirate and bringing him to justice and maybe try to recover whatever remains of my fortune in his possession.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?” Tony scoffed, voice dripping with sarcasm even though his heart was hammering against his chest.

“Lord Hammer has been writing to anyone and everyone capable of sending him arms and troops to help hunt down this pirate for months now. If someone had answered his plea, I might still be in possession of my merchandise and weapons. I have nothing better to do now. So, I’m here to join his manhunt.”

“You’re putting your faith in Hammer?” Tony asked in a condescending tone. “Also, you’re too little too late to the party because this Rogue Irishman was terrorizing this neighborhood long before I had arrived here. I thought he was a ghost story since there has been so sighting or attack during my time here. He probably left for Ireland or wherever it is pirates go to sell goods in the black market.”

“I think not,” Obi replied.

“And why is that?” Tony asked.

“Because the surveillance setup downwind from his last known location brought reports of the vessel heading this way,” Obi replied with a vicious smile. “The Irishman has returned to his hideout on this coast.” Steve’s reasons for sailing upwind into the storm and Tony’s protests out of fear came back to haunt him. Cap predicted this. He said there would be surveillance setup downwind. Tony thought they weren’t spotted because no ship was lying in wait to hinder them but he didn’t consider lookouts on land. Damn it. If only he was braver and could hide his wound a little longer, his lover would have never turned the ship around and they wouldn’t know he was back here.

“Well, I came here because I missed you dearly,” Happy offered his reasons with a big goofy smile on his face. “You should have never left London. It’s not been the same without you. The taverns, balls, and parties are not half as fun as they were in your company. I couldn’t even bring myself to play cards without you.”

“We have saved a lot of money thanks to that,” Pepper said since she always hated it when they gambled on card games.

“I haven’t even seen a decent play in a while,” Happy went on as if he had never been interrupted. “The only interesting thing that happened in your absence was the king taking a new mistress, some actress, that’s what passes for scandalous these days.”

“I’m sure Tony knows all about it,” Obi said, smashing through the genuine moment of reunion among friends. “He was London for almost a week after all.”

“And didn’t even bother paying me a visit,” Pepper muttered passive aggressively.

“Pray tell us, what is this urgent business matter which brought you there?” Obi asked, taking a seat upon the armchair and crossing his legs in that regal dominating-any-space-he-occupies way of his.

“I would rather not say until something comes of it,” Tony replied, using the elusive diplomatic businessman tone he hadn’t used ever since he closed shop.

Obi was clearly not ready to let go of the subject and was about to press on with a follow-up question, when Happy, who could read Tony’s moods better than anyone else, butted in to change the subject.

“I bought a new horse,” Happy announced since fast horses were one subject they both loved discussing. “She’s down in your stable. You’ll love her. She’s a chestnut with a deuce of a temper but she’s incredibly fast and powerful. What say? Want to race? My mare against the fastest steed you’ve got.”

“Definitely,” Tony replied.

“Speaking of horses,” Obi interjected. “I woke up early, decided to go for a morning walk, and noticed a horse returning to the stable at sunrise. Didn’t you mention you arrived in the middle of the night?”

Tony wanted to choke him to death. “Did you, now?”

“And I happened to strike a conversation with the groom and the stable hands,” Obi began. Of course, he did. He was like a dog with a bone always poking his nose where it didn’t belong. “He said it was the same horse you fled with to _London_ , while your entire household was still abed.”

“I left him tied in the woods nearby when he refused to carry me the final mile and made it here on foot. I was terribly tired and didn’t wish to make camp so close to home because my horse was acting out,” Tony lied looking Obi dead in the eyes, even though they were all more than aware that he would never ill-use an animal like that.

“Did he get so tired and cranky from carrying three people all the way from the city?” Obi asked the smirk of a predator who had successfully led his prey into a trap. “Because the maids were gossiping all morning about the woman and child you brought along with you.”

Pepper dropped her teacup as she stared at him with her mouth agape.

“He is my ward, and she, his nanny,” Tony replied matter-of-factly.

“Is this the urgent matter which led to your secret trip to the city?” Pepper demanded, towering over him like a threatening storm as if he had somehow offended her by adopting a child.

“Though, it is a little hard to believe one horse carried the three of you all the way from London and only gave up a mile from home,” Obi said with an unamused laugh. “One would hope to find that horse at death’s doorstep, but instead, he had quite the pep in his step this morning like that big blonde horse hasn’t seen a day’s work in his lavish life.”

“I didn’t wish to stir gossip among the staff,” Tony said, throwing his hands up in the air, “but I didn’t bring the nanny along with me. She is Jarvis’s woman and lives not far from here, and he brought her here last night when I told him I was in urgent need of someone to take care of my ward.”

Pepper, who was practically vibrating with fury, chimed in with, “Oh, it’s a good thing you got a nanny because you definitely need one now, but what I’m more interested in is finding out, is why you adopted this boy in the first place. Be honest. Don’t lie to me,” she warned. “Is he yours?”

Oh, boy. This was the perfect excuse to kill two birds with one stone and shut down both their interrogations. He no longer had to think of some bizarre tale to explain away where he found Harley. There wasn’t much resemblance but he could still pass the kid off as his bastard. It would certainly explain the mysterious circumstances surrounding the horse. Not to mention, the cuts and bruises on his face. In one beautiful moment of inspiration, all the threads came together and weaved themselves into the perfect story which was completely in character with his bad reputation.

“Fine, you caught me,” Tony said, turning on his heel and crossing the length of the room to avoid making eye contact with any of them while he spun his narrative and peer out the window instead. “I didn’t go to London. I had the horse stashed away nearby to provide me with cover. The truth is I’ve been having an affair with someone who lives not far from here.” He smiled thinking of his lover for it wasn’t entirely a lie. “I went to visit her while her husband was away. He showed up earlier than we expected. Thus, my battered face,” he said, looking over his shoulder to remind them of it. “I’m not sure if the boy is mine, but the father threw him out of the house along with me. It was kind of my fault that the kid was rendered homeless.” That wasn’t untrue either since he was the one who burned down the warehouse where the child worked and lived. “So, I believed it was my duty to do right by him. Ouch, ouch, ouch—”

Before he knew what he had said wrong, or done, or what was happening, Pepper had him by his ear and was dragging him out of the room.

“Ouch, where are we going? What? Pepper, stop,” Tony protested all the way to the salon. “What is the meaning of this insolence? Unhand me at once.”

“I can’t believe you were out having affairs with married women and making more babies while I’ve been putting out your fires and cleaning up your messes,” Pepper yelled, turning to face him the instant they entered the salon.

“Cleaning up my messes,” Tony asked. “What are you talking about? What messes?”

Tony looked over Pepper’s shoulder where a beautiful blonde stood up from where she had been sitting on the sofa concealed from them at first. Panic. Sheer panic gripped his broken bandaged up heart. Why did she look so familiar? He knew her. He somehow knew her and he didn’t know how but he still knew this wasn’t going to end well for him.

“Oh, hey, fancy seeing you here…Carrie,” Tony said, trying to guess her name.

“Christine,” the blonde replied, sounding quite offended at first before she schooled her haughty expressions to something more polite and imploring. “Christine Everhart. You might remember me from the—”

Pepper raised a hand to shut her up. “Did you sleep with her after the Valentine’s day ball?”

“What, no,” Tony replied. “I was too busy shutting down my business all of February to even consider attending balls.”

“Not this year,” Pepper said, inhaling a sharp breath.

“Last year,” Christine provided, and yes, now he remembered how he knew her. Before he could ask any further questions, the piercing shriek of a baby broke through the pregnant pause and Christine picked up the tiny little brunette bundle of joy also concealed behind the sofa where she had been sitting. No. Oh, god no. He went out on one pirate mission. One mission. To become a pirate. How the hell did he end up with child? Not just one child but two. How on earth did he return from his maiden voyage as a pirate as a father of two? How? How does that even happen? Tony could sure as hell feel a sense of kinship to that baby because he too wished to scream and cry at the top of his voice right about now. Steve was right. He was a creature of the land. His life and legacy were tied to the land forever and his brief tenure as a pirate seemed like a flight of fancy from another lifetime which could never be his again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Lovesick23, Wolfens, Dodo, chloestar05, and EmeriB_98 for your lovely comments that motivate me to write.   
>  So...what do you guys think of this Obi? And the baby?  
> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	23. How I Met Your Mother

At first, Tony was a bit afraid to hold the baby, but when he did, he was absolutely terrified. What a delicate and fragile little thing. There could be no doubt about the paternity. Christine had a fairly sheltered life before her overprotective parents did their best to ensure he married their daughter, and they did have quite the affair around the time the child must have been conceived, not to mention, the baby was a spitting image of him, especially with the brunette locks and those big brown eyes that pierced his very soul. It was just so damn tiny. Oh, his heart. This baby definitely breathed life into his dying heart.

“Hey, baby, why so grumpy?” Tony sassed, pressing its little button nose.

The baby erupted into loud bubbling laughter and, oh my god, how absolutely pure, and just when he thought the kid couldn’t get any cuter, it gripped the finger on its nose in a literal death grip. Such tiny fingers. Such a strong grip. How utterly fascinating. What a beautiful thing and he helped make it.

“Anthony, meet your daughter, Morgan,” Pepper said, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “Morgan, this is your father, who is a genius, yet possesses the same level of maturity as you.”

“Is she the reason for your surprise visit?” Tony asked.

“Surprise,” Pepper said in a bright singsong voice. “When Christine sought me out and shared her conundrum with me, I knew we had to come see you at once. The boys just tagged along but nobody else is aware of the baby’s parentage. Sorry about Obi though, I did my best to shake him off but he is just so damn clingy.” She massaged her forever aching forehead before leaving with an encouraging nod to Christine. “I’ll leave you two alone to discuss the matter.”

“So…you made a baby,” Tony said brandishing his daughter, feeling more awkward and uncomfortable than he had felt in his entire life.

“You helped,” Christine said with a little smirk.

“I hope you’ll understand when I say I can’t do the right thing here and take you as my wife,” Tony said, holding the baby closer to his chest, and funny thing, she grabbed the ring concealed underneath the robe. How are babies so cute? Why did he spend his entire life dreading them as crying pooping monsters?

“I figured as much,” Christine said, walking away from him to take a turn about the room.

“It’s not for selfish reasons, and it’s definitely not because I don’t respect you,” Tony assured her. “We’re both equally responsible for making this kid. But there is someone.” He paused. “Some I love very much.”

“Trust me, I can understand,” Christine said, slumping onto a chair with an exhausted sigh. “My parents practically pushed me into your arms because you were the richest man they knew, and I had very little freedom until then, so I was completely swept off my feet and enjoyed every single moment of my time with you.” Okay. That he could understand more than anything in the world. “But if I’m being entirely honest, I never really liked you.”

“No, no, go ahead, it’s not like I have feelings or anything,” Tony teased as he sat down beside her.

“I didn’t agree with your weapon’s business, and I would have never come forward about this if you were still in that line of work,” Christine said with the dauntless honesty which had always made her attractive and annoying to him in equal measure. “But I’m proud of all the man you’ve become now.”

“Idle and retired,” Tony asked.

“Don’t play it off as nothing, I’m well aware of all the good you’ve done with your fortune,” Christine said with a knowing smile, because even for a woman with such a sheltered upbringing, she sure had a pulse on all the gossip and news like no one else.

“Oh, I almost forgot, it was you who first sowed the seeds of doubt in my mind,” Tony said, turning to her with an accusatory little finger now. “I hope you’re happy now that I took a sledgehammer to my life’s work.” Christine’s upbringing might have been sheltered and her parents controlling, but her father was an officer, who moved their family from one colony to another throughout her childhood, as a result of which she grew to hate the empire long before he did. The greatest issue for the two of them was how outspoken she was about it all. He cringed from the reminder of his previous stance during all the heated debates they had. Hmm. Maybe he had a type: stubborn and self righteous blue eyed blondes, who lived to argue with him, loved to top him in bed, and had a burning hatred of oppressive regimes

“I am,” Christine said with a big smile on her face. “I was quite pleased to hear that after all that time accusing me of being an oversensitive bleeding heart, whenever I shared my life experiences and opinions with you, one trip to a colony and you shut down your business and give up your fortune.”

“Well, I had to see it for myself,” Tony said with a deep sigh. “Still, thank you for laying the groundwork for my disillusionment.”

“You’re most welcome,” Christine said. “And I’m glad our moral compasses points in the same direction now that we share a child.”

“Speaking of,” Tony began carefully. “Why is it that you sought me out? If it’s a matter of money, I still have enough to set up some kind of allowance for you to raise the kid.” She winced. He immediately added, “That’s not to say I do not wish to be involved in my daughter’s life, because I do, I want that very much.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Christine said, letting out a sigh of relief as if unburdened at last. “You see, having a baby out of wedlock kind of ruined my life and reputation. I’m a social pariah. My family disowned me and turned me out. I had to pawn off all my jewelry to get by until I had no choice but to swallow my pride and seek out your estate managers.”

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry for that,” Tony said. “What can I do to help?”

“Your friend helped make arrangements for me to move in with my only sympathetic relative, and aunt in Monte Carlo,” Christine said, and that definitely made his heart sink to think his daughter would grow up so far away from him. “My aunt,” she said with a heavy heart, “only agreed to take me in and not my daughter. Please don’t judge me for saying this, but I also wish to start my life afresh with a clean slate. Childbirth did something very damaging to my psyche. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t bond with my baby like other mothers, no matter how much I’ve tried, and most of all, I just can’t keep the melancholy and this dreadful sense of guilt and hopelessness at bay anymore.”

As someone whose psyche was similarly disturbed from his near death experience, Tony held her hand as they sat there in comfortable silence with no words or judgment between them. Who knew bringing life could be just as traumatic as a brush with death? “I have recently adopted a boy as my ward,” he said, breaking the silence when she had composed herself, “and I wouldn’t mind taking on the responsibility of another child.”

Christine’s face lighted up like a Christmas tree. “Oh, Tony, thank you,” she said, throwing her arms around him and the baby. “She’s six months old and weaned off breastfeeding, so you wouldn’t have to get a wet nurse, and other than that, you seem like a natural.” She waved a hand at the baby now sound asleep in his arms. “This is right. Yes. This would do her good. She has a far better shot at a decent upbringing with you than she has with me.”

“And what will you do?” Tony asked because she was the mother of his child after all and he was more than concerned about her wellbeing after that confession.

“Try to become a writer, I guess, I always wanted to but my family quashed that dream. Maybe I’ll give that a shot now that I have a second chance at life,” Christine said, more to herself than him, growing more and more relieved and hopeful by the moment.

“You deserve that. Everyone deserves a second chance. Tell you what,” Tony said, “let me still set up some funds and an allowance for you so that you’re not entirely at the mercy of this aunt of yours.”

“That’s very generous of you,” Christine said with a little nod. They worked out all the details of their arrangement by the time Jarvis announced the food was served and guests waiting on them.

Lunch was a far cry from the usual quiet affair he had grown accustomed to in this house. Between his invited and uninvited guests, it was a cacophony of small talk and pointless chatter ranging from the weather to how delicious the peas were to the moral failings of the king’s new mistress to strategies for catching the oh so dangerous pirate captain. Ugh. He missed that dangerous pirate so damn much. At some point during the main course, when fantasies of the manhunt grew a little too bloodthirsty for his taste, Tony lost his appetite and excused himself under the guise of going to fetch some more wine.

“Jarvis, the keys to the cellar please,” Tony asked the butler.

Jarvis shot him a look of warning even though he couldn’t outright argue or deny the request in front of everyone. “Are you sure about that, sir? You charged me with rationing and monitoring the wine consumption in this house for a reason.”

“Anthony, are you drinking too much again?” Pepper called out from behind him.

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine,” he brushed it off with the wave of his hand.

“Jarvis keys,” he demanded now.

“Very well, sir,” Jarvis said, handing him the keys with a displeased shake of his head.

“Come help your old man choose wine. Let’s see what kind of taste you have,” Tony said, taking the baby from Christine because this is an introduction he had to make before Steve learned about it from Wanda, Bruce, or Jarvis.

Tony made sure to lock both doors from the inside so no one could come snooping after him and made his way downstairs with a babbling baby in tow. The crew was busy working on the planking of the ship, now that the damaged hull of the ship was fully exposed in the low tide. Oh, his poor ship. As broken a thing as him. Thor and Steve were doing the lion’s share of the heavy lifting as they walked around barefoot, shirtless, and sweaty. A sight for sore eyes. His lover had the most adorable wrinkle upon his forehead and a petulant pout as he worked on the ship’s repair with such a lovely look of concentration on his beautiful face like it was life or death. Maybe it was for they had to leave this place before the hounds gathered. They were spotted. The cavalry would soon arrive and to linger longer than absolutely necessary would only prove fatal.

As he crossed the length of the beach, Thor jabbed at Steve to draw his attention to Tony. It was a delight to watch that big dopey smile of greeting morph into confusion, turmoil, and horror. “Umm…where did you get that baby from?” Steve asked, meeting him halfway across the caved-in beach.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Tony teased, giving his glorious shirtless, soaking, and disheveled form a once over.

“I would,” Steve stressed.

“This is what brought my friends here uninvited,” Tony began. “That lady, accompanying Pepper, she’s one of my former lovers and this is our lovechild, Morgan Stark.” He held up the baby, practically shoving it upon Steve, who was watching them with eyes as big as saucers now.

“What? How? When,” Steve mumbled.

“My daughter. You must surely know how babies are made. She’s six months old but I just found out about her,” Tony replied, imploring Steve to look up at him but he was far too fascinated by the baby’s shoe size.

“So, what are you going to do now? Marry her mother,” Steve asked with a hint of jealousy and insecurity, still refusing to meet his eye.

“What? No. She wants me to keep the baby so she can move to the Monte Carlo and start over,” Tony assured him and it must have worked for Steve took the baby in his arm, coddling and cooing like a natural.

“I can see why you made a baby with her, Mister Lets-run-away-to-France-together,” Steve teased, burying the baby in his bountiful bosom, and if any doubt of her paternity remained, it was settled the instant she began vehemently slapping her hand over his chest with high pitched screams of joy…because same.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Tony asked to check where they stood in terms of their relationship.

Steve, being Steve, the little shit that he was, held up the baby to study her at great length before declaring, “She looks just like you. Like a tiny baby version of you. Would you look at those big brown eyes?”

“So, you’re okay with this,” Tony asked, still unsure and bursting with anxiety, “being the step-father of my child and all.”

“Children,” Steve corrected. “Remember the other one that I fed and took care of while you had fallen into bed with that injury you tried to conceal from all of us?”

“I remember,” Tony said, slapping his cruel lover’s arm. “Speaking of, when you turned around the ship downwind, the lookouts spotted the ship, and now, everyone knows you’re back in Cornwall. I beg you Steve; you need to get your stubborn ass out of here as soon as the ship is fit to set sail.”

“I knew this would happen,” Steve said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No point dwelling on it now or regretting the past. What’s done is done. Still, this is a great hideout and no one will discover us here unless we’re betrayed by you, and you will surely not do that to us, now will you, my love?”

“That is an awful lot of faith to put in a man you keep refusing to marry,” Tony teased, with a pout and a little kiss.

“I never refused. We just need to work out all of this, starting with the ever growing horde of children you have started amassing,” Steve said, bringing his attention back to the baby between them.

“Are you okay with this? Or not? Because I’m getting all sorts of mixed signals,” Tony asked trying to make heads or tails of it before he realized just how happy and entertained his daughter was in his lover’s arms. During his brief time with Morgan, he had come to realize that she was a no fuss low maintenance darling with a cheerful disposition. Still, she was over the moon with Steve. “And how the hell are you so goddamn good with kids?”

“Language,” Steve chastised him, covering up her tiny ears.

“Did you just say language,” Tony said, taken aback and clutching the ring concealed underneath his shirt. “Who are you and what did you do to the dangerous pirate, who strikes terror into the hearts of all my guests upstairs?”

“If you had stuck around, and finished our conversation about children, instead of running for the hills the instant things seized to be all rose-tinted and romantic—”

“I did not run for the hills,” Tony interjected even though he totally did. Steve’s over-the-top real and mature conversation about approaching a lifelong commitment with maturity and proper planning totally freaked him out, especially when they got to family. He blamed it on being an orphan and a bachelor for the past two decades, which was almost as long as he had a family, due to which the subject of family stirred all sorts of issues and feelings.

“You did,” Steve shot back. “You totally did. _Look, Steve, land_ ,” his cruel lover mimicked him, without sparing him an ounce of mockery and torment. “I know you, Tony. I know you well, and more than that, I know what cold feet look like.”

“I didn’t have cold feet, okay,” Tony confessed. “I just don’t have any family, so you bringing up yours reminded me of…things.”

Steve pulled him into a hug while holding his daughter in his other arm like they were both just silly little babies for him to soothe. “See, this is the kind of communication I’m talking about. You need to tell me these things. Now that you did, I no longer feel insecure about you running on me the instant things got real.”

“Wait, you thought what?” Tony asked with a shake of his head and a little kiss on his lover’s cheek.

“Anyway, like I was saying,” Steve said, clearing his throat, along with the air of awkwardness and vulnerability, “If you didn’t run for the hills at the mention of family and children, then I was about to tell you that I too have a daughter. That is the real reason why I know what I’m doing here.”

“You have a….you have a…” Tony stared from him to the baby with his mouth agape. His legs gave away. There was only so much shock his broken heart could withstand. His legs turned to noodles and he came crashing upon the sand with a slump.

“A daughter, yes,” Steve said, handing the baby to Thor, who immediately began tossing the her in the air and catching her like a beach ball to the baby’s her great delight and her father’s great distress, and left the two of them alone to introduce the kid to the rest of the crew. “Though, mine is six years old, not six months,” he said with a playful little jab as he sat down beside him.

“How,” Tony asked, utterly befuddled.

“You must surely know how babies are made,” Steve replied, throwing his words right back at him.

“But…but…didn’t you say you’re entirely repulsed by the idea of being intimate with women and can’t even kiss them?”

“I did and I am,” Steve replied. “My daughter is the result of my last desperate attempt to go straight. This was back when I still served in the royal navy. All my friends and comrades were settling down with wives and children, and all I had, was the ever growing panic of my disinterest in women stirring suspicion among my peers. I listened to what they said about features that are meant to be attractive in a woman, like breasts and wide hips and you know…you like women too,” he said, a bit flustered. “Enter Peggy. She had all of that. All the men I knew agreed she’s the epitome of physical beauty; I could objectively see it for myself too; not to mention, she was a strong willed firecracker with one hell of a left hook, which is a trait I found most attractive in her. I figured if there’s a woman who can set me straight, it’s her, and if doesn’t even work with her then there was no hope of it working with anyone else.”

“Please, go ahead, by all means, tell me just how beautiful and phenomenal the mother of your child is,” Tony whined as he dramatically fell back upon the sand.

“Don’t be jealous,” Steve chastised him. “This was seven years ago. I took your recent dalliance way better even though the mother of your child is living and supping upstairs with you while I’m hiding out down here.”

“Oh my god, does it bother you?” Tony asked.

“No,” Steve shot back with vehemence before he appended, “Okay, maybe a little.”

“Come here you big beefy buffoon,” Tony said, pulling him down in an embrace.

“So anyway…” Steve sighed, resuming his story, “I gathered some liquid courage and made my move, but after drunkenly fumbling around in bed and thoroughly disappointing each other, we both realized that there was no hope for us after all.”

“Both?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, turns out, she had the exact same motive for choosing me,” Steve replied. “Her friends propped me up, telling her how attractive I was. Comparisons to Adonis were made. Though, she liked me for my effeminate sense of beauty—whatever that’s supposed to mean—from before I grew a beard. She too figured if there was someone, who could advocate for dicks and make an honest woman out of her…it was me.”

“You know what I love about your humility?” Tony teased, brushing their beards together. “How humble it is!”

“Her words, not mine,” Steve said, though there was still no humility to be found.

“Anyway, despite the disappointment of the night, we somehow managed to make a baby. Life finds a way I guess,” Steve said. “Peggy is a member of my pirate company. She helps with the planning and inventory and sometimes even joins us on missions. And she’s currently raising our daughter with a woman she lives with in my house in Ireland.”

“You live with her and her lover,” Tony asked, sitting up with the shock of it.

“More like visit them when I take a break between voyages,” Steve shrugged. “I figured it’s the least I could do after knocking her up if I wanted my daughter to have a good upbringing and be a part of her life.”

“That’s a very unconventional family you’ve got there,” Tony thought out loud. Could he ever fit in with his lover’s family? Then again, it’s not like his friends upstairs were throwing Steve a welcome party either.

“It’s not as weird as it sounds,” Steve said getting a bit defensive and protective about his loved ones. “We’re all great friends and the two of them are very resourceful with growing food and constantly building and expanding upon the house. You’ll love it. In fact, you know what we should do?”

Tony jerked up his head in question.

“Once your wound heals and you’re in better health,” Steve began, all excitement and ecstasy, “Why don’t you come along with me to Ireland, and stay with us for a while? We can introduce the kids and see how they get along. I’ll show you around. We can live together more freely there than we do here or on the ship. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, that does sound quite delightful,” Tony murmured, running a hand over his chest, wondering if and when his dying and decaying heart would heal to make that dream a reality. “I would love to visit your home and meet your family.”

“And you’ll get along so well with my daughter. Mary is bit of a genius. None of us can ever keep up with the rate at which her brain runs, but if there’s anyone who can speak her language, it’s you,” Steve said, getting up and dusting the sand off his butt before he pulled Tony to his feet like he weighed nothing. Damn. This never got old. They went to find Morgan, around whom the entire crew was huddled up in awe and fascination.

“Steve, do you think we could really make this work? Make us work? Now that we have…kids and responsibilities,” Tony asked in a small unsure voice.

“I don’t see why not,” Steve shrugged. “It’s all a part of life, and if we plan on spending our lives together, then we have to start thinking about how to make these things work, instead of thinking of our relationship and our individual responsibilities in either-or terms. I know it’s too boring,” he added, pulling him into a passionate kiss, trailing with a bunch of chaste ones.

“And not at all exciting,” Tony teased with a petulant pout.

“But we’ll make it work,” Steve said.

“Huh? You realize you need to stay alive to plan our lives together right?” Tony asked as he took his daughter and bid everyone goodbye. “And for that to happen, you must listen to me and leave this place at once. Obi came here to team up with the rest for hunting you down. Steve, please heed my warning because you don’t know him like I do.”

“That old fart is more than welcome to try,” Steve simply said in that annoying cocky way of his. “I have been a fugitive for a long time, my love. If I ran at the first sign of people planning to hunt me down, I would never be able to rest and relax anywhere. You just get paranoid because they do their plotting in your presence but trust me…I have this all under control. All I ask of you is to take care of your health and be cautious when you come down here.”

Tony bid him goodbye with a heavy heart and a begrudging kiss.

For Morgan, Steve had a gentler and goofier farewell, making her erupt into that infectious laughter once again. How could he stay mad at that?

“God, you’re so stubborn and annoying, why do I even love you?” Tony teased as he walked away from him.

“Next time I set sail, I’m taking you and your kids to Ireland,” Steve called after him. “Not leaving a moment before that, my love.”

“You will leave the instant this ship is repaired, or so help me god, I will chase you out myself,” Tony challenged. He liked the idea though. As he ascended the stairway, he let his anxieties slip away, and allowed himself to daydream for a while even though it was futile. It was a nice dream. He and Steve wrapped in each other upon, the porch of a cottage somewhere, watching all their children play in the garden. Oh, what a life that would be. Tony locked the door behind him with a big smile on his face and picked out a bottle of wine to justify his absence but the instant he stepped out of the wine cellar he ran straight into Obi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Wolfens, tae_se0k, Dodo, chloestar05, EmeriB_98, and Lovesick23 for all your lovely comments to keep me motivated. Late update because I wasn't feeling very motivated. What did you think of the two baby mama dynamics and the growing superfamily?  
> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	24. Legacy

Tony’s glorious daydream of a simple life with his lover and their children and a charming little cottage came crashing down to reality when he emerged from the wine cellar to run straight into Obi. Damn it. Steve asked him to do one thing—just one thing—to be cautious when he came down here. And what did he do? He alerted all of his guests that he was going to the cellar to fetch wine and then disappeared for so long; no wonder Obi came sniffing after his fishy breadcrumbs like a bloodhound. Why was he so goddamn bad at being a competent pirate and a decent lover? Steve’s teasing words came back to haunt him: ‘ _no one will discover us here unless we’re betrayed by you_. _’_ That is what this felt like. A betrayal.

“What took you so long?” Obi asked. His tone of voice was calm and casual but his eyes screamed suspicion. “Lunch has been over for a while.”

“I must have lost track of time between showing off my collection to my daughter and choosing the perfect bottle of wine. She’s very curious and far too opinionated for a baby,” Tony shrugged. “I guess we’ll just have to crack open this bottle at dinner.”

Obi gave him a once over, scrutinizing him from head to toe, before he raised a sly brow and remarked, “Your shoes are all dirty and wet.”

“Are they?” Tony asked with an air of casualness even though his heart was about to beat out of his chest any moment now. “Must be all the dirt and the giant puddle of water in there,” he quickly added. Before Obi could so much as sneak a peek inside the room, Tony handed him the wine with a little shove, shut the door with a bang, locked it, and pocketed the key.

“I called out to you. Even knocked,” Obi said sounding as offended as he was suspicious.

“Hmmm…I assumed it was some imprudent servant,” Tony said, snatching back the wine, and practically making a run for it with the baby in one hand, the bottle in another, and panic taking hold over his heard. Shit. Shit. Holy shit. What had he done? He hoped his excuse was convincing and Obi hadn’t gauged the situation like he did his first night here when he saw Jarvis sneaking into the cellar.

Tony handed over the baby to Christine, had his wound checked up and redressed by Bruce, and rushed off to his study. He set down the bottle of wine, and flung himself upon the high backed leather chair, while his former bad habit demanded he drain the bottle. He refused to succumb to overindulgence simply because the source of all his troubles, Obadiah Stane, was prowling the hallways, thirsty for the blood of the love of his life, and he might as well have served the first clue pointing to his lover’s whereabouts on a silver platter. No. His mind didn’t take well to idleness, and as his lover was currently dealing with his problems by keeping a level head and focusing solely on the repair of his ship, he too must charge his restless mind with duties and responsibilities of his own. With that resolve, he sought out a constructive distraction by summoning his estate managers, Happy and Pepper, to discuss plans for his new farming equipment business.

He showed them his designs and prototypes. Pepper’s letters always had a skeptical tone to them, implying this was an unfeasible vanity project with no market or demand for it, but now that she had seen it for herself, she agreed this could be the future of agriculture. They both agreed that his old factories could be refurbished to manufacture these, instead of weapons, and they could afford to do so, if they used every last penny left of his fortune outside of this estate. Still, they would need investors for the capital to get the business up and running.

Happy was optimistic about their prospects since this had the potential to become a profitable venture. They weren’t pleased to find out that he had other plans. Pepper was positively infuriated to discover he intended on keeping the profit margins paper thin, just enough to keep the business afloat, and his true intention was to sell his equipment at the lowest possible prices to destroy the demand for slave labor.

“Not this again,” Pepper sighed. “Anthony, you cannot change the world and save everyone in it. Terrible things happen. They have always happened. They will keep happening.”

“Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do our best,” Tony shot back.

“There is no estate left for us to manage,” Pepper spelled it out for him. “You have nothing other than this property and the income it generates. When you wanted to shut down the weapon’s business, we were right there by your side; when you wished to give up your fortune for causes you believed in, we helped facilitate that as well; now you ask us to scrape up whatever is left to start this business, rest assured, we will do that, but we need a lot more to buy raw materials, hire workers, and create a market for these machines. No investor would open their coffers to you if there are no profits to look forward to… only good deeds and karmic retribution.”

“Then sell this bloody estate,” Tony declared. He was done with his guests. He was done with his suffocating neighbors. He was so done with not even being free to live as he pleased in his own house. What was even the point of living alone in such a big house, which was prone to falling into disrepair without an army of servants to look after it, leaving no room for privacy or the one he loved? This tomb neither brought him the peace he came seeking nor could promise the life he wished to build. It only served as a mausoleum for his forsaken past and impossible future. Here there was nothing. Only regret, anxiety, and yearning. “It’ll fetch more than enough capital to keep the business afloat for at least a decade and by then, it would become self-sustaining, despite the thin margins. If it makes you feel any better, think of it this way, I’ll own the controlling share in the company and there will be no investors breathing down our necks.”

“And where will you live?” Happy asked, more than concerned now.

“I’ll purchase a smaller house with what remains of my fortune once this business is established,” Tony lied. He didn’t know where he would settle down. That was a decision he would make with his beloved. No longer would Steve be treated like a mistress or a dirty little secret to be hidden away and forced to circumvent the ludicrous hassles they both had to endure for the sake of living this unsatisfying life here. They will build a life and a home together. “Or I’ll just marry rich,” he muttered under his breath recalling his lover’s little sugar daddy kink.

“What did you just say?” Pepper asked. “Is this the same one true love you mentioned earlier to Christine? It can’t be the mother of your new ward because she’s already married and can’t be very rich if she was powerless in the face of her husband throwing out her son. So, who is it? Please enlighten me, since untangling the web that is your _love_ life has never been an easy job.”

“Can we focus on managing _my_ estate at the moment?” Tony shot back.

“I would help you with anything, Anthony, but please don’t ask me to destroy your entire legacy,” Pepper said.

“You stood by my side all these years while I reaped the benefits of destruction, and now you put your foot down, when I’m trying to do the right thing and build a better legacy?”

“You’re going to destroy your life and I’m not going to be a part of it.”

“I’m not crazy, Pepper, I just finally know what I have to do with my life,” Tony replied because he shouldn’t be even alive. He should be buried at sea unless there was a reason. Hell, he could die of this bloody chest wound which refused to heal and not even get a shot at the life he dreamed of…maybe this would be his last contribution to the world.

“Fine, I’ll see what I can do,” Pepper conceded.

“I know a few potential buyers who have expressed interest in this property over the years,” Happy added before taking his leave. “I’ll begin writing to them at once.”

Tony asked him to summon Rhodey, on his way, since he might as well settle all the affairs surrounding this business venture now that the three of them were here. Pepper was almost done sorting out the last of his eccentric financial demands for not only his estate and future business plan but also the promise he made to Christine. If there was someone who could make it all work, it was Pepper, and he had complete faith in her, even though she took it like the ever suffering mother of a rebellious teenager.

Rhodey hadn’t joined them for lunch, since he had joined Jarvis—when he left to go buy clothes and toys for Harley—but remained in town to run some errands and meet some of his contacts. This was the first time Tony had seen him since they parted ways in London. Damn! His friend walked into the room, looking far more aristocratic and well dressed than he remembered him.

“Ah, look at you,” Tony greeted him. “You definitely look like the most powerful and feared man in London that I keep hearing about.”

“Please,” Rhodey said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You look like shit though. No offense.”

“None taken,” Tony smirked.

“What happened there?” Rhodey asked, staring down at the bandages visible from his vantage point where he stood over Tony.

“Nothing,” Tony replied, tightening up the lacy collar he had unwittingly loosened up during his long and grueling argument with his estate managers.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Rhodey observed before he sniffed him, getting awfully close to his chest, “And is it supposed to be stinking like that?”

“Minor injury,” Tony said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “See my face? I got into a bit of a fight. My apothecary just makes a mean stinky poultice to tend to my wounds. Maybe it’s just good medicine, maybe he does it out of spite. Who knows?” Tony exploded out of his chair so Rhodey would no longer be standing over him, but he shouldn’t have made such a sudden movement for his world spun, and plunged into darkness, and he could see stars as Rhodey caught him in his arms.

“Hey, man. Hey, hey,” Rhodey said, steadying him, “You all right?”

“Yeah, just help me to my fainting couch,” Tony pointed out to the furniture in question when Rhodey seemed absolutely clueless about where to take him. With a loud sigh, Tony flung himself upon the couch and put a hand over his head, hoping for this to pass without having to summon Bruce.

“Do you need something?” Rhodey asked, taking a seat beside him.

“Pour me a glass of wine?” Tony shrugged.

“Would that be wise in your condition?” Rhodey asked.

“My condition,” Tony demanded, recalling Lady Hammer’s delicate _condition_. “I’m not pregnant, platypus. Oh dear god, at least I hope I’m not.” He raised his joined hands to high heavens in prayer. “There are only so many children I can take responsibility for. Please. No more.”

“Calm down,” Rhodey said, pouring him a glass, “Here.”

“Join me?” Tony asked, sliding another glass his way.

“I can’t,” Rhodey replied. “There’s something I wish to discuss with you first.”

“You better not be pregnant with another one of my children, honey bear,” Tony warned him.

“What, no,” Rhodey said, looking absolutely bewildered. “What is with you and children? Men can’t even…. You know what? Never mind. I’ll have that drink after all. I need to erase that cursed image from my mind.” He poured himself a glass as well and rang a bell for Jarvis to grab some fish and chips for them to munch on while drinking. Jarvis wasn’t pleased with Tony’s decision to drink this early in the evening, especially in his _condition_ , but thanks to Rhodey’s presence, he didn’t utter a word in protest.

Halfway through the bottle, they had moved from small talk to laughing at the basest of jokes to an open, sincere, and deeply vulnerable dialogue about Rhodey’s social work and Tony’s farming equipment initiative. When Tony recounted the latest developments of this afternoon, Rhodey got awfully quiet. The awkwardness only grew when Tony recommended the job openings as part of his friend’s rehabilitation efforts.

“This is sort of what I wished to talk to you about,” Rhodey said, at last, looking him in the eye. It was almost as if they were having an intimate moment. Hmm. Then he broke the silence with, “Tony, forgive me if I’m wrong, but I came here because I had to know your intentions for all these people I freed and rehabilitated with your money. Tell me I wasn’t making a fool of myself by acquiring slaves for you this entire time.”

“Oh my god, no,” Tony replied. “It was merely a suggestion. We would hire others if this makes you uncomfortable. I’m not even starting this venture for profit,” he said, laying out his true intentions, which he had only shared in such detail with Steve until now. “I reached out to you so we could put our heads together and create a plan for fair wages and the best possible work environment we can offer to these people who have been quite ill-used in this country so far. I have no experience with labor, and thus, I don’t have the first idea about its struggles and needs. You, on the other hand, I thought, might have a few ideas.”

“I do actually,” Rhodey replied. “Are you sure you want to hear them out? They might seem a bit outlandish for what seems to be the norm right now.”

“Pshht, I invented outlandish, try me,” Tony dared him.

After a long discussion on the subject, they grabbed the paperwork Pepper had left behind to do the math and came up with a plan for where to start and how to improve upon it with time and profits. They drained the entire bottle of wine. But they came up with a strategy which had the lowest probability of killing his estate managers of a heart attack.

“Is this for real?” Rhodey asked. “You know when I met you, I didn’t expect things to go so far, but now, I almost feel like I’m robbing you.”

Tony almost choked on the last of wine at the mention of robbing. “Don’t you worry, sourpatch, I’ve done a lot more of that than you ever will.”

“I hate to make the most contrary second wild accusation of this evening,” Rhodey said, scrutinizing and studying him at great length, “but did you have any role—however indirect—to play in your friend Obi’s little tragedy?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“I don’t know, it just seemed like an uncanny coincidence that you write to me inquiring about slave trade routes, and weeks later, your _friend_ loses his merchandise, slave ships, and the last of your weapons,” Rhodey said. “And there are reports of the pirate, Fury’s, ever growing crew terrorizing every single route I mentioned…only to you.” Shit. He shouldn’t have taken the risk of seeking intel from Rhodey. The man was a little too bright to not have put two and two together. What was he thinking?

“That sounds like quite the coincidence,” Tony replied, “but I don’t see how that’s a bad thing. Isn’t this Fury doing the same thing you are but in a more assertive and aggressive way.”

“I’m not complaining,” Rhodey said, raising his hands in surrender. “In fact, I would _never_ judge any conspirator involved in this plot. I assure you that. No judgment from me. No, sir.”

“Do you plan on sharing this most absurd theory with anyone?” Tony asked with careful deliberation and a perfect poker face.

“Most probably not,” Rhodey shrugged. “So, was it you? I would understand. That notorious pirate has been terrorizing your neighborhood for a while. It would make perfect sense, if he barged in here, taking you at gunpoint and threatening to rob him, and you striking a bargain by pointing him in the direction of more fitting targets and a great treasure in exchange for having your weapons destroyed and saving your own hide.”

“Yes,” Tony said, a little too eager and excited. “That is exactly what happened.”

“Though, the Irishman’s surgeon had another tale to tell when I met him for lunch in town this afternoon,” Rhodey added, looking away with an unnecessary air of mystery.

“Really,” Tony sighed. “What the hell did Strange tell you?”

“Aha, I knew you were in it deeper than you’re letting on,” Rhodey said, towering over him, pointing an accusatory finger and flashing a triumphant smile.

“No. What? No,” Tony mumbled. “What gave you that impression?”

“How else would you know the surgeon’s name is Strange?” Rhodey asked.

“Maybe he’s the one who forced all that information out of me at gunpoint?” Tony asked with a hopeful little smile.

“Yeah, and maybe he invented an accelerant known to no one to destroy your weapons too,” Rhodey sassed.

“Greek fire was used in several wars in ancient times,” Tony blurted out.

“And you know what this mystery accelerant it is… how?” Rhodey asked, raising a sly brow.

“Fine, ‘twas I that set the warehouse ablaze,” Tony replied rather dramatically.

“It was you? Physically you,” Rhodey asked, slumping down beside him on his fainting couch. “It was you in that armor. Oh my god, Tones, please tell me you didn’t set sail with a bunch of pirates and did it all with your own two hands.”

“I said no such thing, Platypus, you’re the one jumping to conclusions, wildly accurate conclusions, nonetheless, please do not put words in my mouth,” Tony requested. “I hope you won’t betray me—your benefactor—for a slave owner with imagined slights of losing the money he embezzled from my father’s estate and then invested it in one atrocity after another to grow _his fortune_.”

“So, that’s what it’s about? He steals from you and you steal it back,” Rhodey asked, not accusing but genuinely trying to make sense of it.

“No, I helped others steal it, others who share our goals,” Tony reminded him.

“Fair enough,” Rhodey conceded. “Still, I’m worried for you, Tony, piracy is a dangerous business.”

“Danger is my middle name,” Tony scoffed.

“I know for a fact that it’s Edward,” Rhodey shot back.

“You’re one to talk… Rupert,” Tony said, reminding him of his middle name.

“You have done more than enough for with your money and your mind, there is no need to risk your life as well, it’s entirely unnecessary,” Rhodey said, putting a comforting hand over his shoulder.

“Promise you won’t tell on me,” Tony asked entirely serious and sincere for his life, his reputation, and his future was riding on his friend’s discretion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	25. Dinner Party from Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update because it was all supposed to be one chapter which was running WAY too long and I figured its best to seek some juice, however little, from the comments to wrap it up instead of sitting on it forever and posting it as one. Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.

Rhodey swore to never betray him by telling another soul about his secret life as a pirate. Tony believed him. There was no reason to doubt his friend would jeopardize their partnership for the likes of Obi whom he disagreed with on as fundamental a level as humanly possible. They had a little heart to heart about however much he deemed appropriate to disclose to his friend of his life as a pirate, until Jarvis came barging in to announce that dinner had been served.

“We’ll be joining shortly,” Rhodey replied.

“Are you two sober enough to sup with company?” Jarvis asked with more than a hint of judgment and disappointment.

“We’re fine, don’t you worry about us,” Tony assured him.

“I’ll let our resident apothecary be the judge of that, sir,” Jarvis mumbled as he walked out the door. 

“You know, now that we can talk freely about this,” Tony said in a conspiratorial whisper to Rhodey, “I made the most glorious discovery in the company of pirates. They vote on every important decision. And hear this…even the lowest member of the crew gets an equal say as the captain.”

“I heard, but what of it,” Rhodey asked as he helped him get back on his feet.

“What if we do the same with the workers?” Tony suggested. “Not that I don’t value your council, but surely, there must be limitations to your knowledge and experience. Wouldn’t it be wiser to allow every factory to choose a leader among them, vote on their ever changing issues and demands, and have their leaders advocate for their unanimous decisions to the company’s board?”

“I love it,” Rhodey replied, “But Pepper will surely kill you for it and blame me for putting this totally unheard of idea in your head.”

“The future, Rhodey, that’s what you and I are paving the path to,” Tony reminded him as they made their way to the dining room.

“Workers forming a union to advocate for better conditions,” Rhodey asked. “I’m all for it. Go ahead. I don’t see how you could go wrong with that. It will only improve upon the quality of their work if they feel respected and heard instead of oppressed.”

“Ah, this is what happens when you get in bed with freeloaders,” Obi said in his booming voice from across the dining room, where his giant ego had him seated at the opposite end from Tony’s place at the head of the table. How dare he sit where Steve sat the night they dined together for the first time?

“Screw this guy, he definitely deserved what happened to him, and I’m taking your secret to my grave,” Rhodey whispered into his ear as he helped him to his seat and took the one beside him. He set down his napkin, readjusted his cutlery, and asked in quite the commanding voice, “What the hell did you just call me?”

“A freeloader,” Obi repeated. “That’s what you are—aren’t you?—someone who sank his claws into our poor sensitive traumatized little Tony and swindled him out of his fortune to offer handouts to the rest of your freeloader friends.”

“You mean people your kind buys, imagines to be their property, and then forces them into servitude, while you sit on your fat aristocratic ass reaping the benefits of their labor like a…. What’s that word again?” Rhodey asked, snapping his fingers. “Yes, a freeloader.”

“I beg your pardon. Me? You accuse me,” Obi scoffed.

“That’s right. Beg,” Rhodey ordered and that kickstarted a very passive-aggressive battle of wits between the two throughout the hors d’oeuvres and soup course, while the others failed at all desperate attempts to steer the conversation towards more lighthearted subjects. Even Happy couldn’t save this dinner with mentions of the new horse he had purchased.

Harley came skipping into the room and sat on the other seat by his side with an adorable little bounce. “Wow, is this my new sister?” he asked, pointing at the baby strapped to Pepper’s chest with the help of a cloth tied as a harness.

Tony nodded.

Harley struggled with the height of his chair and the dinner table to get a better look at her before he declared, “She’s too small to play with.”

“She’ll grow,” Tony assured him.

“Jarvis got me way too many toys today. I thought I’ll give her some, but now, I’ll need to figure out which ones she can pick up with those teeny tiny hands,” Harley said like he had put a lot of thought into it.

“Trust me, she has very strong hands,” Tony assured him. “I’m telling you, buddy, death grip.”

Harley giggled.

“And are you…satisfied?” Tony asked with a little doubt, still unsure how to deal with children and raise them well. “With your room, clothes, and toys? Is everything to your liking or is there something else you might need?”

“No, thank you, sir,” Harley said with a respectful nod. “I have never experienced such luxury in my life.”

“Please don’t call me sir,” Tony said, waving it off.

“Then what shall I call you? Father?” Harley asked, so excited that it immediately had alarms setting off in Tony’s head and walls encasing his heart to ward off the sudden intimacy. He supposed it was only a matter of time before Morgan started calling him _that_ but there was still time to adjust to the idea until she learned how to talk.

“Uh…we’re not there yet kid,” Tony replied, “How about Mister Stark instead?”

“Sounds good, Mister Stark” Harley agreed.

“So, what do you like… is there something you’re into that I can get for you,” Tony asked with his best attempt at figuring out children, and assuage ruffled feathers from his denial of letting the kid call him father, now that Pepper was glaring at him from across the table, silently demanding he fix whatever damage he did to the child.

Harley surveyed the table, equally clueless, before he answered with a child’s innocence and excitement. “I love strawberries!”

“Strawberries, great, we have lots of those lying around,” Tony said, letting down a breath of relief. “Jarvis, get him all the strawberries he wants to eat.”

“Would that be wise, sir,” Jarvis asked. “I would recommend a few at the end of a well balanced meal.”

Harley looked down in despair.

“Just get the kid his strawberries. He can indulge just this once,” Tony said with a little wink for the kid behind the butler’s back. What a delight it was to watch the boy’s eyes spark with joy at the sight of a bowl of his favorite food. Huh. All this time being terrified about being a bad parent, he didn’t even think how much worse the kid had it before that even his terrible attempt at parenting was a big improvement upon his former life. Maybe they could both learn from each other. He could see how the kid self regulates before enforcing rules of his own since the child had quite the monstrous appetite and his over indulgence of his favorite fruit didn’t deter him from eating that well balanced meal Jarvis was so worried about.

Tony was taking great delight in his wholesome discourse over food with the kid when Obi took a break from arguing with Rhodey and interrupted them instead. “What an unusual accent he has,” Obi observed, “he doesn’t sound like he’s from around here.”

“All Cornish speak likewise,” Tony brushed it off with a bluff.

“Come here, lad, come sit in your uncle Obi’s lap, and tell me all about what happened with your parents,” Obi asked, beckoning him with a demanding gesture of his hands.

“Do not badger my ward, Obi, and don’t you know it is rude to interrupt such a sweet family moment?” Tony asked. To the boy, he whispered, “Never sit in that man’s lap or go anywhere near him or speak to him about anything. Just throw a tantrum and start screaming at the top of your voice if he comes within five feet of you.”

Harley nodded.

When Wanda walked past them to take her seat, Tony discreetly said to her, “You have my permission to do black magic on the bald one if he ever comes near the children.”

She walked away with an amused little grin.

“I wasn’t badgering him,” Obi whined.

“I don’t think you even realize when you’re doing it,” Rhodey muttered not so under his breath.

“You…you gold digging upstart…you have no business being here and dining in the company of your superiors,” Obi yelled.

“Obi,” Tony warned him. “This is my house. Not yours. You’re merely an uninvited guest here. Please don’t forget that. Also, while we’re at it, don’t forget that Rhodey is the more powerful and influential one now, and you, a penniless pauper.”

Rhodey fist bumped him under the table.

“Don’t you see, my boy, there is no pleasing these people. Today he takes your fortune. Tomorrow he will take your home. He will keep growing in power and influence and you diminishing in every sense. A day will come when you’re drained dry and burnt out with nothing more to offer, and you will not receive even a simple ‘thank you’ in return but will be judged for your failings and for not doing even more. That is the way of these people. You’re a fool for forsaking the company of your respectful peers for these self-righteous, spiteful, and destructive fortune hunters. He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and you begrudge me, your shepherd, for my honesty and concern?” Obi scolded him like he was still a child and a part of him winced like a pupil being informed of failing a test. No. He refused to give in to that deep-seated fear and submission. 

“I didn’t do it for the gratitude and worship,” Tony shrugged.

“Then why did you do it?” Obi asked like the question ran deeper than what it appeared on the surface. It felt like an accusation or more. Or was he just imagining it? “You can hand them your entire legacy and they would still spit on it. Tony, my boy, can’t you see he only came into power and influence because you handed him all of that on a silver platter.”

“As opposed to the hard earned fortune you broke your back to earn,” Rhodey taunted him.

“Let me dumb it down for you, those who have the mind, the management skills, and the drive to go after what they want, don’t have to toil in the fields to earn their bread. Others do the grunt work for them,” Obi explained in a condescending tone.

“Sounds like you’ve highly overestimated your capabilities and completely ignored the friends in high places that raised you up,” Rhodey spewed in an acidic tone. “Because if you were truly so bright and capable, you wouldn’t have put all your eggs in a basket for a common pirate to steal it from right underneath your nose.”

“How dare you make light of my loss,” Obi demanded, slapping the table with both hands to rise and tower over them like a threatening storm.

Just then, Jarvis entered the room with a folded piece of paper on a tray. “A letter from Lord Hammer, sir; his footman is waiting outside for an answer as we speak.”

“Send him away, I will respond to it at my own pleasure,” Tony said with a dismissive wave of his hand before he noticed that it was Obi his butler was addressing and not him.

“It’s addressed to Mister Stane, sir,” Jarvis replied.

Obi perused the letter with an unsettling laugh. “I’ll answer it at once. I have lost my appetite anyway,” he said, swaggering out of the room like a man on a mission.

They all shared the sentiment. No one was in the mood for dessert other than Harley, who was going to town on the clotted cream and strawberries without a care in the world for all the drama which had unfolded around him. Then again, the kid lived in a warehouse. How disturbing could dinner debates be for him? Everyone dispersed to their rooms, and despite his curiosity, Tony begrudgingly climbed half a flight of stairs, when Obi returned with a devious smile on his face as he tore up the letter and burned the fragments upon the candelabra.

Obi met his questioning gaze and said, “The hounds are gathering and the game is on, my boy.”

“What game? What is it that Hammer wanted with you?” Tony asked, clutching Steve’s ring dangling by a chain and hanging over his heart, concealed underneath layers of lordly finery. Deep down, he knew the answer. He dreaded it. Then why was he desperately hoping Obi hadn’t made arrangements to hunt down the love of his life in less than a day?

“I believe they had grown too comfortable in their misery until I came here to wake them up,” Obi said with a triumphant smile. “That bloody pirate of yours will be caught soon enough and I plan on making quite the sport out of it. He will hang by your fortieth birthday,” he said it with such surety as if he was speaking it into existence. “That will be my gift to you.”

Tony looked up at Rhodey, who was standing only a few steps above him, with a deep sense of hopelessness and despair. He didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the half a bottle of wine he had drained, or the scar cut open over his heart which refused to heal, or the escalating stress of the day, or the horrifying image Obi had painted for him. He suddenly staggered back and lost his footing. Rhodey rushed to catch him. Though, his fingers simply slipped underneath the futile grasp. It was his worst nightmare. Steve dying in front of his eyes. No. There was only so much his broken and battered heart could take. Tony fell down the flight of stairs…and then there was darkness as he collapsed on the floor. In the distance, he heard Bruce roar in agony, spouting instructions to save him. He didn’t wish to be saved. He didn’t wish to make it to his fortieth birthday and be cursed with outliving his lover.


	26. Into The Closet

Tony regained consciousness to the sight of all his friends crowding over his bed, while Bruce explained way his fainting spell as a result of drinking too much. Rhodey wasn’t convinced. But after a lot of lying and pretending and putting up a strong front, they all left him alone with Bruce and Jarvis, so the apothecary could have some privacy while checking up on him. The instant they were alone, Bruce slumped onto the edge of the bed with a defeated sigh.

“That bad, huh,” Tony asked.

“I had my doubts but I was clinging onto hope that I could still turn things around,” Bruce confessed, meeting his gaze with a look of desolation.

“I know, it’s not healing at all,” Tony said, preparing to embrace the worst. “I feel like a walking talking rotting corpse ever since I returned home. What is it? Be honest.”

“All signs point to sepsis,” Bruce gave his diagnosis, regaining his professional tone and composure.

“What can we do to ensure recovery?” Jarvis asked, uncharacteristically emotional and hopeful.

“Nothing,” Bruce replied. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“How long do I have?” Tony asked, having accepted his fate since deep down he knew—he just knew—he felt death’s grip closing around him down to his very bones even before his cursed homecoming.

“Could be as long as a year or could be as short as a week,” Bruce replied with a solemn nod.

Jarvis slumped down onto the nearest chair as well. The dogs, thankfully, climbed into bed to comfort him; it was uncanny, this keen insight they had into his psyche, knowing exactly when he craved comfort.

“A week, huh,” Tony mused, “I had a premonition that I would cease to exist on my fortieth birthday. Good. I don’t wish to live to watch them hang Steve. Maybe…maybe in death, we’ll be free to be one.”

“That’s such an unnecessarily morbid sentiment,” Jarvis scolded him. “What’s with this sudden overindulgence in dread pleasures, sir?”

“Well, what else do you expect from a dying man?” Tony asked. He knew he sounded miserable and pathetic but he had never felt this miserable, pathetic, and hopeless in his life. He was at death’s doorstep, his body had already begun rotting, and he posessed no desire to live. All he wished, for now, was to crawl in bed and die.

“Where is your fighting spirit?” Jarvis demanded. “We can overcome this. You’re a genius. There is magic in the world. Anything is possible if we put our heads together and try to come up with a solution.”

“I’m tired of fighting,” Tony sighed. “I just want to rest now.”

“Have you ever come across a similar case where the patient lived?” Jarvis asked Bruce.

“Yes,” Bruce replied. “It was a bad case of a wound infected with tetanus.”

“How was the patient cured?” Jarvis asked.

“Strange amputated Bucky’s arm in time to stop it from spreading to the rest of his body,” Bruce replied. “Sadly, that is not an option for Tony. This is a chest wound, not an infected limb, and the infection is already spreading to his vital organs.”

“Just promise me one thing, Bruce,” Tony began, “Don’t tell Steve—”

“Don’t tell Steve, what?” Steve asked as he scaled the trellis Tony had installed underneath his window for creepers to grow and his lover to secretly creep in whenever the wine cellar route was inaccessible. God. Why did he do it? Why did Steve come here? What if someone saw him? What if someone comes barging into his room and catches him here? This was a disaster.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tony asked, doing his best to contain his desire to yell into a mere whisper.

“Checking up on you,” Steve replied, totally unbothered by his panic as he climbed in through the window. “Wanda informed me that you fainted. Is everything all right?” As if realizing that Tony couldn’t be trusted with an honest response, he turned to Bruce and asked, “What happened to him?”

Bruce began, “It’s—”

“Nothing,” Tony said, glaring at the apothecary to silently swear him to secrecy.

“Nothing like the time you concealed that chest wound until you almost bled to death?” Steve taunted, putting a hand over his hip.

“Nothing as in it’s none of your damn business,” Tony said with all the harshness he could muster to hurt his lover, only to be consumed tenfold by the pain of it. Steve had to be sent away. His stubborn ass wouldn’t leave if he knew Tony was on his deathbed. He would stick around till the bitter end, while the vultures circled overhead awaiting both their demise and just because he was a goner, didn’t mean Steve had to follow him to the grave. There was still hope for Steve. He could leave this cursed place and get to another one of his safe houses and live out the rest of his life as far away from Obi and Hammer as possible. He would push his lover out of this hellhole even if tears his heart asunder.

“None of _my_ business,” Steve asked raising a sly brow. “I’m the guy you propositioned to spend the rest of your life with; of course your health, wellbeing, and life expectancy are very much my business.”

“Maybe that was a mistake,” Tony declared. “The adventure, the high of the battle, and returning home victorious somehow messed with my head and threw common sense out of the window. What was I thinking? Joining the company of pirates and planning to bind myself to one for life. If there’s one thing that returning into the company of my respectable peers has shown me, is the error of my ways, and how stupid I was to risk everything in the name of something as base as lust.”

“So it’s just lust, is it?” Steve asked, more exasperated than anything else.

“Lust, forbidden fruit, a dark fantasy of courting a criminal,” Tony said, turning his heart to stone. “What are we, lovers? No. It’s merely chemistry to get sparks flying at best and set off explosions of chaos at worst. This”—he pointed a finger between the two of them—“this was a mistake. One I deeply regret. It’s over. Go. Be gone. Just leave this place and never show me your face again.”

Steve stood there—shell shocked—his beautiful eyes almost welling up with tears like this was his worst nightmare. But watching his lover hang was his. That would not happen. He wouldn’t allow it.

“Tony…” Bruce said, practically begging him to not do this. 

Jarvis simply shook his head in disappointment.

“You don’t mean that,” Steve said, stomping his foot. “I don’t know if you’ve been hypnotized, brain-washed, or your illness has turned you far more bitter and venomous than hungry and sleep deprived people become when the suffering of their body makes them insufferable. Speaking of, are you even eating, hydrating, and sleeping properly?”

“Sir drank half a bottle of wine before dinner,” Jarvis snitched on him.

“So, you’re a mean drunk now?” Steve demanded. “Is that it? Is that what had you tripping down the stairs and acting like such a capricious overdramatic twink?”

“I’ve never been more sober in my life. Here, take your ring,” Tony said, prying off the chain hanging around his neck and getting out of bed to hand it to him.

“You know what?” Bruce said red with rage and begrudging Tony for putting in between a rock and a hard place where he must either betray his patient’s confidence or act as an accomplice in his captain’s heartbreak. “I can’t take this anymore. I’ll be in my room. Let me know if something is amiss with your health.”

As they watched the apothecary storm out of the room, Steve raised a hand, and said, “Keep it. You won that ring fair and square in our wager.”

Tony sat there with the chain hanging from the palm of his hand before he said to his lover, “But it’s—”

“And anyway,” Steve cut him off, “You’ll need something to hold onto when you cry yourself to sleep for the rest of your wretched life.”

Tony almost cried at that. But no. No. He refused to shed a single tear. He had to be strong to ensure his lover isn’t dragged down into the clutches of death along him with. “Fine, will you get out of my sight now?”

“Gladly, my lord,” Steve replied with an ironic little bow.

“Hey, Obadiah, what are you doing here?” Bruce yelled out from the corridor in less or a greeting for the intruder and more of a warning for the rest of them.

“Checking up on Tony,” Obi replied. “He had quite the shock from hearing our plans for the pirate.” Steve, Tony, and Jarvis looked from one to another in confusion, shock, and sheer panic of it all. Both of them looked to the window but the butler had other plans.

“I have an idea,” Jarvis declared. He began shoving them towards the walk-in closet and practically dumped them inside. Steve and Tony stared into each other’s eyes with pain, anger, and the love that could never be extinguished as they lay entangled upon the carpeted floor as Jarvis shut the door on them. 

“Where is Tony?” Obi’s muffled voice came from the room.

“As you can see, sir is not here,” Jarvis replied, turning the key in the lock, trapping them inside either to protect them from the intruder or to protect their relationship from each other. No. Tony wished to bang on the door and order Jarvis to unlock the door, but then, Obi would find Steve in here with him; still, he couldn’t keep up the charade for long if his lover kept looking at him like a kicked puppy.

“Is he with the kids?” Obi asked.

Tony’s heart could beat out his chest with anxiety. Not the kids. He didn’t want Obi venturing anywhere near his kids. It didn’t help that he could already hear the retreating footsteps.

“Guests aren’t allowed to loiter in this part of the house,” Jarvis gave Obi a stern warning. “This is sir’s private wing and only those assigned a room here can walk these halls.”

“Then assign me a room here,” Obi shot back.

“It is not in my power, I’m merely my lord’s humble servant,” Jarvis replied. Tony rolled his eyes at that because he was neither humble nor powerless and servitude had never been his strong suit. “It’s way past bedtime. Please return to your assigned guestroom.”

When Jarvis was done throwing out the trash, they patiently waited for the butler to return. They kept waiting. And waiting. Glaring at each other and seething in anger and resentment in perfect silence. Every now and then, he would accidentally drop the act and let the heartache slip through the cracks, but the hope and scrutiny in his lover’s gaze would have his walls back up again.

“I don’t think he’s coming back anytime soon,” Steve said, breaking the silence at last.

“I agree,” Tony whined, slumping down into the floor where he could avoid meeting his lover’s eyes. “If you had left when I first told you to then we wouldn’t be stuck here.” It was unfair. But he could already feel his resolve slipping away and he could not be brave for long.

“Sorry for not jumping the instant you say ‘jump,’ your lordliness,” Steve scoffed. “Your hot-headed temperament makes it impossible for me to keep track of your ever changing moods and wishes. Is that why you wanted to _run away together_ ,” he spewed out the words with such bitterness as he closed the distance between them and towered over him like a threatening storm. “Be honest. You owe me that much if you truly wish to end this relationship. Did you want to run away together because you knew returning to your world, where a person’s social standing defines them, would inevitably remind you that association with me will only bring you disgrace?”

Tony kept his gaze planted on his lover’s shoes. He wouldn’t look up. No. Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes any moment now and he couldn’t allow them to be seen.

Steve took his silence for yes. “I didn’t wish to commit to you for that very reason,” he confessed. “I didn’t doubt your love—god, you assured me of it a million times—but there was a mere ember of doubt burning in my heart, telling me your passion would fade away along with the romance of adventure, and that you will change when you’re back in your element, surrounded by the respectable gentlefolk of polite society.”

Tears spilled freely from his eyes but he only hung his head lower in shame. He was such a master of self sabotage; the greatest source of misery in his life; not to mention, own his greatest enemy; no one could even dream of inflicting the kind of destruction and pain as he was capable of inflicting upon himself. He wanted Steve to leave at once and be safe. But at what cost? How could he hurt his lover with such cruel worlds and stab him in the heart with a blade forged from his greatest insecurities to leave him to live out the rest of his life with heartache and self-doubt? That was in poor taste. Then again, was there ever a way for a tragedy to end gently?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The credit *cough* blame *cough* for Tony getting Sepsis goes to my lovely reader Dodo. Totally their evil wish/idea so feel free to take take it up with them in the comment section. The credit *cough* blame *cough* for Tony breaking up with Steve after finding out about it to ensure Steve's safety goes to the lovely Wolfens, who also wrote a giant ass comment to charge me up to write this chapter I had zero motivation to begin. Moss's kind words carried me through the second half. I thought this part of the story is just a disaster like the lover's quarrel from the voyage subplot but it was very validating to know that my terrible attempt at angst is working for atleast Moss.  
> This chapter was meant to longer. I planned for them to talk things through while trapped in the closet. But honestly, I'm totally blocked and literally can't write that conversation AT ALL so I thought it best to just post whatever I have for this chapter than to just sit on it forever now that I'm feeling a writer's block kicking in. Hope to post soon. But if I don't, assume the block got me.  
> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	27. You're My Family

Tony tried to evade Steve’s scrutinizing gaze the best he could, while they were trapped in the closet together, all thanks to his wretched butler, who had locked them up in here and left them to marinate in their misery. Steve had an uncanny way of seeing right through him like a mind reader. He simply couldn’t risk that happening. Steve must be sent away. The hounds were gathering to hunt him down and the vultures circling overhead awaiting his lover’s hanging. If Steve knew Tony was on his deathbed, he would never leave his side; he would only grow more careless and distracted, and the manhunt against him was the only party which would stand to gain from it. Tony’s demise was all but guaranteed. There was no cure for sepsis. Just because he had to die, didn’t mean his lover had to follow him to the grave. Still, he didn’t wish to leave his lover with insecurities and heartache, and with every passing moment his resolve began to weaken and he grew painfully aware of how deep his words must have cut.

Steve stood leaning against the rack where all of Tony’s silks hung, stroking the red and gold one he wore the night they first made love. “What are you going to do now? Do the right thing and marry the mother of your child? Is that what brought this on? I’ll understand if you’ve made this choice for your child.”

Tony shook his hand.

Steve turned his back on him with a disgruntled sigh. “By the way, I just finished the self-portrait you commissioned me to paint. Do you still want it? Well, it might make things weird and uncomfortable for you. Never mind. I’ll keep it.”

“Of course I want it,” Tony said, his shaky voice giving him away.

“Are you crying?” Steve asked, instantly closing the distance between them and doing a half-crouch, unsure whether or not it was appropriate to comfort him now.

“No,” Tony replied, wiping his face profusely. “I just have something in my eye.”

With a heavy sigh, Steve dropped down to his knees and tipped his chin up with a tender touch of his finger. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m sorry, Steve. I so sorry,” Tony said, throwing himself into his lover’s arms. “I didn’t mean any of that. I hate it. I hate it here. The only thing returning to _polite society_ reminded me of was just how suffocating, performative, and repressed every moment in it feels; how spiteful it is of anyone who wishes to be happy; never have I felt as happy and free as I was with you on that ship. You must believe me,” he said, gripping his lover’s face with a desperate need for him to believe it, despite the cutting nature of the harsh and cruel words he had spewed earlier. “I love you. I love you more than life itself. These aren’t mere words. Someday you will know just how much I meant them. There’s nothing in the world I want more than to spend the rest of my life with you. I even asked my estate managers to sell this cursed place so we can build a home somewhere we don’t have to sneak around but live freely.”

“Then why?” Steve asked, pain and perplexity warring in those beautiful eyes.

“I just want you to leave this place,” Tony whispered. “There’s no hope for me”—his voice cracked, realizing he had said too much—“but please don’t gamble with your life by remaining here long a moment longer than absolutely necessary.”

“Was all this just some angsty attempt to push me away for what…my safety?”

“Promise me, Steve,” Tony begged. “Promise me you’ll leave.”

“I will do no such thing,” Steve replied, offended and pissed off, despite the feather light touch with which he wiped his tears.

“Why won’t you just listen to me?” Tony asked.

“Why are you always so goddamn paranoid and anxious about my safety and wellbeing when you’re the one who just had a fainting fit?” Steve demanded.

“Because one of us has to,” Tony shot back.

“No,” Steve replied. “Save your concern for your own wounded and sickly self. Why can’t you just trust me when I tell you this is not my first rodeo and I know exactly what I’m doing? I can protect myself, my crew, and you all on my own. Have been doing for years. So back off.”

“God, you’re just as cocky, stubborn, and so sure of yourself like my bloody father,” Tony said, getting back up on his feet. “ _I know exactly what I’m doing. I’ve been doing this for years_ ,” he said venomously, “Those were allegedly Howard Stark’s last words right before he took my mother sailing—cocky, confident, and drunk off his mind—and then crashed the boat upon the rocky shores by the cliff. Their bodies washed up on the very beach you use as a hideout.”

“Oh, Tony, that’s horrible,” Steve said, closing the distance between them to the point that Tony could feel his breath upon the back of his head, but his lover’s arms still hung in the air, unsure if his intimacy was welcomed anymore.

“Do you think I want to be like this?” Tony asked, voice cracking, though he refused to succumb to shedding tears again. “I was a jolly old bachelor without a care in the world when I was all on my own and lovers were merely ships passing in the night. My temperament was cool. My mind composed. Do you think I enjoy being such a piping hot mess in a constant state of worry and anxiety over this ever growing family I have all of a sudden?” He turned to face Steve and added, “I hate it—I hate it as much as you hate enduring it—but I’m absolutely terrified of the prospect of losing you.”

“And so you will do everything in your power to keep me safe,” Steve sighed with a disappointed shake of his head.

“Is that such a bad thing?” Tony asked a bit wounded because he knew there was madness to his methods but his heart was still in the right place.

Steve stepped away from him, and after a few decisive nods, came to some sort of verdict. “My father was an absolute bastard too. He served in the royal navy as well, that is until he returned from battle completely messed up in the head, and became a mean drunk. His solution to every problem was to take the belt to me and my mother. She always got back up on her feet; never let him see he could hurt her; never left him either but stuck to him until he did us a favor of dying of consumption. That’s how they fool women you know,” he said, locking eyes for the first time since he started talking about his family, “They teach them that strength enduring pain and suffering and taking it in silence with _dignity_ —whatever the hell that is supposed to mean—and if that wasn’t enough, then the final lesson in self-sabotage is to sacrifice all for one’s child. That’s how she died. We both got sick soon after my father’s demise but she labored all day to buy medicine for me. She pretended she was taking it too, but she wasn’t; there was only enough money to get medical care for one of us. She spent her last days burning the candle at ends, sick and laboring, while I lay in bed getting the care I needed to recover.”

Tony was horrified. He didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure there even was something for him to say after living a life of privilege, luxury, and decadence. These problems didn’t exist in his world. He wanted to comfort him but he was afraid it would come across as pity so he simply hugged him from behind and ran a comforting hand over his heart.

“I was a child back then,” Steve said in a solemn tone. “I had no clue I was sucking the life out of her. Look at me now”—he drew attention to his form—“healthy as a horse, while she lies in her grave. Maybe if she was a little more selfish, we both would be alive and sickly, or better yet, we would have been free of my father’s clutches long before his death. So you see, my love,” he said, turning around to face him, “I do not wish for history to repeat itself either. I won’t another loved one to this self sacrificial bullshit out of concern for me.”

“I didn’t know,” Tony replied with a gulp, truly terrified to come clean about the sepsis now.

“How could you,” Steve replied before gently touching his bandaged chest wound. “Your callous attitude towards this life threatening injury truly wounds me. You know that? I’m a grown ass man, Tony; I can take care of myself. The only thing I want from you is for you to take care of yourself and not dwell upon these irrational fears of a bunch of snooty aristocrats wanting to take me down.”

“It’s not irrational and it is not without reason either,” Tony said, grasping at his lover’s shirt in a silent plea. “Please leave at once, Steve, things have changed since we last heard of their plans. Do not underestimate them now.”

“Why? Because Obadiah Stane has come here to shake things up,” Steve scoffed. “Is this about the plans he mentioned when he barged into your room just now?”

Tony nodded. “They mean to hang you by my birthday.”

“Assigning a _deadline_ to their futile plans hardly makes a difference.” Steve chucked at his own morbid joke. “And if Stane and his dark fantasies of wanting me dead are causing you such stress, then why don’t you just throw him out of your house? Tell him to go stay with Hammer. Win-win. He gets to stay at the headquarters of their little manhunt, you get to live free of stress, and I get to sneak in and visit you more often.”

“It’s not that easy,” Tony said, looking away as a gaping pit of fear opened at the bottom of his stomach.

“Give me one good reason why,” Steve challenged.

“It would be rude and improper to turn out a guest for one,” Tony said in a small and feeble voice.

Steve laughed. “I think propriety went out the window when you pointed pirates in the direction of his entire fortune and burned down the last of your weapons.”

“It’s just,” Tony began, looking nervously around the closet, searching for a reason which might seem somewhat rational, but he ended up feeling even more anxious and uncomfortable with the dawning reality that Obi did indeed hold power over him.

“Wait… Are you afraid of him?” Steve asked, holding him by the shoulders to confront and comfort.

“No,” Tony sneered.

“Then why—”

“You just don’t know him like I do,” Tony cut him off.

“What aren’t you telling me,” Steve asked.

Tony let out a deep breath and pulled his lover into a hug because he needed one if he was going to start embracing brutal honesty. He confessed everything: Obi’s constant clinginess and attempts to dominate every aspect of his life; that drunken night Obi crossed the line; even his creepy eagerness to get him on his lap as a child. They somehow ended up in a heap on the floor during this supremely awkward conversation. Huh. Tony didn’t even realize it. His gaze fell to where he sat in his lover’s lap. Damn, he had serious daddy issues…and Steve had the mommy issues to match. What a pair they made!

“I’m going to kill him,” Steve declared at last.

“Steve,” Tony said with careful deliberation, “Now don’t you go stirring up the hornet’s nest to fight my battles for me.”

“One of us has to,” Steve threw his words right back at him.

“I will,” Tony assured him. “I promise I’ll throw out the trash myself.”

“I promise I’ll move to another hideout when you do that,” Steve challenged, wrapping his arms around Tony possessively. “I am not leaving you alone in this house with that man.”

Jarvis suddenly barged in with a cheery smile on his face like he was the most attentive and competent butler in the world. “Are you two ready to come out of the closet? Or do you want me to give you some privacy to you wrap up whatever it is that I interrupted?”

They both shared a look before glaring at the butler.

“It’s good to see you two have worked things out,” Jarvis replied to their shared glare.

“Jarvis,” Tony warned him.

“Before you yell at me, sir, I would like to inform you that I came bearing gifts,” Jarvis said, pointing at the table laid out with late night snacks.

“Umm, scones,” Tony said, rushing out to grab one, all his troubles forgotten, and replaced with the pure unadulterated joy coursing through his body.

“I figured you two could use some tea and snacks after this grueling and eventful night,” Jarvis informed in his formal and dignified butler voice before pouring chamomile tea for all three of them, and oh dear god, it was truly divine to be hydrated, warm, and relaxed after the events of the day. “Some clotted cream. And the kitchen staff made this fresh jam from the strawberries that survived Master Harley’s rampage.”

Tony cut up a scone in two, smeared some strawberry jam onto it, and added a generous dollop of clotted cream on top to satiate the monstrous appetite he was left with after all the fainting, crying, heartbreak, and discovering he might be dead in a week. He gasped when he saw Steve smear cream first and then throw in a dash of jam on top.

“You heathen,” Tony said, clutching his wounded chest. “I can’t believe I’ve been tricked into falling in love with someone who eats their scones cream first.”

Steve stuck his tongue out. “It’s all the same when it’s in your belly.”

“I’m glad you two had an honest to god conversation and worked everything out,” Jarvis said, fawning over them like a proud mother, whose unconventional tactic of locking her children in the closet until they resolved their issues surprisingly worked. “Honestly, I expected to find you far more distraught and bereaved but you seem to be taking the news about sir’s sepsis quite well.”

“His what,” Steve asked with a mouthful of creamy scones, letting the rest of it fall from the shock of the reveal.

Tony glared at Jarvis.

Jarvis simply stood there with his gaze flitting between the men who shared his divided loyalty. “How on earth did you repair your relationship if that didn’t even come up?”

“We opened up about other things,” Tony said to ensure neither of them blows up on him.

“You have sepsis?” Steve yelled.

“Shh, you’ll wake up the entire house,” Tony said, putting a hand over his mouth.

“That little stunt of yours makes so much more sense now,” Steve whispered, turning scarlet with fury from repressing his desire to scream. “How could you keep this from me? I told you about my mother. I told you exactly how I feel about this kind self-sacrificial nonsense and you still kept it from me. How could you? Get in bed this instant,” he said, towering over him like a threatening storm.

“But,” Tony protested.

Jarvis shook his bed from where he stood behind Steve.

“This instant,” Steve ordered.

Tony complied like the obedient model patient but he took his plate and teacup to the bedside table with him. He was terrified. He was terrified of his lover’s wrath, but more than anything, he was terrified of the look of raw unadulterated betrayal on his face battling with grief.

“Are you…are you going to join me?” Tony asked in a sultry tone heavy with double meaning and innuendo to make it up to Steve.

“Tony, just don’t,” Steve shut it down, and by the looks of it, his lover would not be joining him in bed anytime soon. In a weird turn of events, he did get into bed with him, but it might be the most bizarre experience of them doing so, since he was sexually as disinterested as possible, and his entire being radiated anger and disappointment, yet he held him with the utmost care and tenderness. “You’re dying,” he said, utterly heartbroken, “And your first instinct upon falling to your deathbed was to push me away.”

“It’s not wise for you to stay here for my sake,” Tony said, snuggling closer to him.

Steve let out a deep suffering sigh, and the pillowy chest, upon which Tony rest his head, rose and fell like the waves upon the ocean. “You can’t ask me to be your partner in sickness and in health and then ask me to run for the hills when you need me the most.”

“I don’t need you,” Tony shot back. “I can take care of myself. You, on the other hand, can’t remain here awaiting my inevitable demise, while soldiers gather and the residents rally behind them with torches and pitchforks to hunt you down.”

“I hear your oh-so-pragmatic words, and truly, I have been disillusioned for I can see just how little you need me,” Steve taunted, pointing at where Tony clutched his shirt, holding onto him for dear life. The logical part of him was well aware that his lover must leave at once. Yet, he was only human, and deep down, he too craved comfort and was terrified of dying alone.

“I’m a hopeless cause, Steve,” Tony said, burying his face into his lover’s bosom as he once again felt overcome with emotion. “I’m a dead man walking. Don’t put yourself at risk out of some misguided sense of duty towards me; you aren’t bound to me in any way. You have your entire life ahead of you. Your time here is wasted at best and deadly at worst.”

“Wasted,” Steve demanded, pulling him away to force him to meet his eye. “You are everything to me. Do you hear that? Everything. I would gladly die to have just one more week with you, and then I would face god and walk backwards into hell, and fight the devil himself to drag your ass back to the land of the living.”

“Why would you assume I’m going to hell?” Tony whined.

“Let’s be real, we’re all sinners here,” Stave joked for the first time that night.

“Captain,” Jarvis interrupted. “Now that you’re aware of the issue at hand, I was hoping we could brainstorm possible solutions. Doctor Banner mentioned that the only similar case in which the patient made a full recovery was your best friend, Bucky, but it was amputation that saved his life and that is not an option here. Wanda isn’t aware of a cure either. I debated the issue at great length with her just now. Have you heard of something during your travels?”

Steve rubbed his forehead as if coaxing an answer out of it before he said, “I once heard Scott tell Bucky how he wouldn’t have to lose his arm if the merfolk had treated him since their society is far more advanced than ours in both medicine and magic.”

“Well, Scott must be my guardian angel then,” Tony mused to lighten up their mood.

“Please don’t interrupt us,” Steve scolded him, despite the fact that he was also running soothing circles over his back. Could this man be any more contrary? “I’m still mad at you for keeping this from me.”

Tony didn’t argue with that but simply sat in bed, staring down at his joined hands.

“If they can cure tetanus,” Jarvis said, “maybe they can cure sepsis too.”

“There’s only one way to find out. We must go downstairs and ask Scott directly,” Steve said before he looked down on Tony buried in his embrace.

“I’m coming along,” Tony said. “You two have excluded me from this life and death conversation about me long enough.”

“That’s what you get for pushing your loved ones away during a crisis,” Steve said, running a hand through Tony’s hair.

Tony sat there in bed with a petulant pout on his face and his arms crossed as he watched Steve get out of bed and ready to leave. He knew this was a long shot. Still, he couldn’t help but embrace optimism now that there was a glimmer of hope, however slim the chances of his survival might be. It was an odd feeling. The melancholy of eminent death still clung to every fiber of his being, yet, he had begun yearning for life and the possibility of a future with his beloved.

“Well, don’t just sit there,” Steve said. “Do you expect me to carry you downstairs?”

Tony practically jumped out of the bed with a bright smile on his face before the three of them snuck down to the wine cellar. Despite the joking and chastising, his lover still clung to him like a mother-hen, especially when they descended the stairs cut into the cliff.

“Just in case you slip,” Steve said, clearing his throat. “You faint here”—he let out a whistle that echoed through the cave—“and bam, you’ll be jelly by the time you make it down there.”

“At least it’ll be quicker and easier than dying of sepsis,” Tony shrugged.

They both glared at him.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tony sassed, “Forgive me for laughing at my own misery.”

“Hey, what are you all doing down here?” Scott asked from where he was making his rounds around the perimeter.

“We actually came here to see you,” Jarvis said.

“Tony’s chest wound got septic,” Steve said, pushing past them to make his appeal to the merman. “You once mentioned how advanced your society is compared to ours. Do you…please, Scott, please tell me…do your people have a cure for sepsis?”

“Yes and no,” Scott replied.

Steve shook his head in question.

“Bucky’s case could have been easily managed with a simple potion, which is what I mentioned to him, but in Tony’s case, it’s a chest wound,” Scott explained. “It must have spread to his vital organs by now and that is trickier.”

“So there is no hope after all,” Tony said, letting his gaze drop to his feet. Why did he let himself get carried away with magic and fairytales? What a fool he was. He didn’t really know why but this stung far worse than finding out he was dying the first time around.

“No, there is hope,” Scott said with a little chuckle. “Quite literally. My girlfriend, Hope, is a deep sea witch who possesses secrets both ancient and advanced than anything you can dream of.”

“Is she a mermaid?” Tony asked, truly enchanted by this new discovery. He should have guessed that there were more where their crew’s resident merman came from but he didn’t have the chance to dwell upon it in the light of one disaster after another striking him in such a quick succession.

“No,” Steve said with a bunch of absurd hand gestures, “She’s more like a…an octopus if you must.”

“Who are also the most brilliant sea creatures,” Scott said before correcting, “After merfolk ofcourse.”

“Do you think she would have a cure?” Jarvis interrupted, bringing them back to the matter at hand with much haste.

“She might,” Scott said. What wasn’t he telling them? “I would be happy to pay her a visit and make some inquiries but…”

“What?” Steve asked, getting impatient.

“My people have strict laws to regulate deep sea magic within our society. Sharing our magical secrets with humans is forbidden a few rare exceptions,” Scott replied.

“Like the vial her father, Old man Pym, gave me with instructions for its use before he retired?” Steve asked.

“That is a onetime only thing for emergencies,” Scott stressed.

“I can’t think of an emergency more grave than this,” Steve shot back. “I could lose the man I want to spend the rest of my life with”—Steve pointed at Tony—“over something Pym and Hope could have a cure for, and I’ll be damned, if I don’t do everything in my power to go get it for him.”

“Wait what,” Tony stuttered. “What do you mean you’ll go get it from a bunch of merfolk?”

“You’ll see,” Scott said with a half smile. “I’ll go summon Strange, fetch the vial and a good conductor of electricity,” he muttered to himself before he turned to his captain with a beaming smile. “Your sword would do I guess. Get undressed. Ah, and meet me in the tidal pool out on the rocky shore in ten minutes. We’ll need to do this underneath the open sky.”

“Do what?” Tony asked but he got no answers, only a silent instruction to get into a boat before Jarvis and Steve rowed it through the dark waters, illuminated only by the moonbeam stealing in through the mouth of the cave. No one bothered explaining anything to him even when his lover started getting undressed. All he got was his clothes to fold and hold onto. There was a solemn look of a sacrificial lamb upon his face that didn’t sit right with Tony. He was bubbling with fear and anxiety. Yet, the questions that haunted him were nothing compared to the dread of uncovering the answers about things pertaining to mermen and magic and deep sea witches with octopus tentacles. He sat there in the boat, silently begging his butler to give him some answers. Jarvis simply shrugged. What could this secret be that only a select few members of the crew were in on?

“Steve, what’s going on?” Tony asked, grasping his lover’s arm when he prepared to take a leap.

“Either the best thing you will ever witness or the greatest mistake I’ve ever made by putting my faith in experimental magic,” Steve replied before shutting down any further questions with a fierce and loving kiss which left him with the lingering aftertaste of goodbye. Tony didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit. He felt it in his heart that his lover was about to do something very reckless and stupid for his sake, and my god, he could never live with himself if something happened to his beloved because of him.

“Whatever it is you’re planning to do, you don’t have to…” Tony said, holding onto Steve like something truly horrible would happen if he let go.

“I have to, my love,” Steve said, cupping his face with both hands, “I have to do this for you, for us, for the life you promised to spend with me. Just promise me one thing. No matter what you witness here tonight, you will keep your wits about yourself, and you will not hold it against Scott or Strange if something goes astray. This was my choice. I made the call. Never forget that.” Before he could respond, protest, bargain, or anything really, Steve pulled him in for another passionate kiss, and as he stood there shell-shocked, shaking, and gasping for breath, his cruel lover was already gone. He had taken the plunge and was halfway to the tidal pool.

From there, things only got more bizarre. Strange swaggered in like the Sorcerer Supreme and began spouting spells like nobody’s business. Steve gulped down the vial of magical potion that Scott tossed his way, and then, naked and half submerged into the water from the waist down, Steve raised his sword to high heavens as if in defiance to the gods.

“By the power of the four elements,” Strange shouted into the raging wind, “Earth from the rocks beneath your feet, the water which engulfs your legs, the wind howling all around us, and the crackling fire of thunder…I bind this spell. I bind this spell. I bind—”

The blinding crack of thunder lit up the sky like daylight for only a moment before Steve…before Steve…oh my god! Steve was struck by lightning. Tony let out an ungodly scream. It was completely drowned by the booming roar of thunder which followed. What was happening? What? Why? The sword raised to the sky captured all the lightning before it coursed through his lover’s frozen and glowing body and then the current dispersed into the pool he was submerged into. No, he must go save Steve from this madness. Tony was about to jump into the water when Jarvis grabbed him from behind, and despite his struggles and protest, the butler simply wouldn’t let him go. No. He couldn’t let this happen. He simply couldn’t lose Steve. Tony fell to his knees crying when his lover’s lifeless form sunk into the water. No. No. Oh god, no. Steve was dead. These cursed rocks had taken his family from him once again. How could the gods be so cruel?

Then, there was a loud splash in the pool.

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey, its okay, I’m okay, don’t cry,” Steve said, appearing out of nowhere and clinging to the side of the boat. He was alive? Had he hallucinated the lightning and thunder? And was the moonlight playing tricks on his eyes or was that truly a fishtail and a fin swaying behind Steve.

“You… you’re a merman,” Tony blurted out.

“Well, not really,” Steve replied like his usual cheeky bastard self. “It’s temporary, and unlike Scott, I can’t switch between legs to fishtail during that time.”

“Why?” Tony asked since he no longer possessed the mental energy to elaborate on all the questions he had about Steve’s reasons for doing something so crazy and almost giving a dying man a heart attack.

“To get a cure for you, silly,” Steve said with an endearing little touch on Tony’s red and runny nose. God, he was a mess right now. He furiously wiped down his tears and tried to regain his composure. 

“You risked getting struck by lightning for the possibility of convincing deep sea witches to consider offering a sickly human their forbidden magic cure,” Tony asked, tearing up for an entirely different reason because he knew Steve loved him, but not how much until this very moment. This was insane. He didn’t deserve his lover’s big beautiful heart. No one bit. He felt unworthy of it now.

“As I said, you are everything to me,” Steve whispered, drawing him into an all encompassing kiss.

“I hate to break this up,” Scott said. “But time is of the essence and we must leave at once if we’re to get to the”—Scott lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper for Steve—“secret underwater city, make a case for why they should help you with forbidden magic, strike a bargain, get all the paperwork in order, and get back here before you return to your human form in a week.”

“Take good care of him,” Steve told Jarvis, “And make sure neither Tony nor the kids are ever alone with Stane.”

“Steve,” Tony protested.

“And you,” Steve said to him, “Looks like you got your wish of sending me away from this place after all.”

“Well, I wanted you gone to another safehouse, not the swimming among sharks and other deep sea monstrosities,” Tony grumbled. Steve laughed at the last bit since it was also Tony’s pet name for his cock. “Don’t you dare turn this into a joke.”

“You’ve don’t have to worry about me chasing tail among other monstrosities,” Steve said with a cocky little wink. “I’ll see you in a week,” he said, sealing that promise with an earth shattering kiss.

“Until then,” Tony said, cupping his lover’s beautiful face in his hands before bidding him farewell with a chaste little kiss. “Please be safe.” With that, Steve frolicked away with Scott, both showing off with high jumps and dives like a pair of dolphins. Oh, even as a merman Steve had to be the most beautiful of them all with his tail—such a deep and radiant shade of blue—shimmering in the moonlight as he stood there transfixed and fascinated until they disappeared upon the horizon.

_(New Moodboard)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Wolfens and Moss, for practically dragging me out of my writer's block to finish atleast the second half of that closet conversation. Wolfens, your nerding out about a quest for the cure is what kept popping up in my head daily until the idea for merman Steve finally struck me and I just had to write it. You're amazing! Like the perfect reader every writer dreams of finding someday. xoxo
> 
> I'm [winelover1989](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and this is [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631720335899869184/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) if you wish to share it with your followers.
> 
> Also, I wanted to be honest and upfront about something with you guys, I'm not in a very good place right now and my inspiration to finish this story is running extremely low and has almost extinguished. Comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. Its something all fic writers have in common, since comments is the only thing we get in return for the work, and reader reactions, even if emojis or a something poorly expressed, serve as a great feedback loop to fuel the writing. A lack of comments can be very demoralizing and heartbreaking. And other than a couple of regulars, none of you interact with me. Just yesterday I was having very dark thoughts about how writing fanfic is a total waste of time and energy, so talk to me, interact, don't let this story I really want to finish turn into another abandoned fic by a ficwriter who got burnt out from a lack of interaction. I have literally no motivation to write the final leg of this journey. Help me out. Seriously, I need help if you want me to finish this story, and if you help me get my groove back to the point where I have enough juice to post one chapter per day like I used to, then I'll throw in some hot merman smut before Steve has to turn back.


	28. Fanart

Ladies and Gentlemen I present to you the glorious out of context fanart

by the amazing, the brilliant, the talented....

[ **HAZEL** ](https://hazel-shithappens.tumblr.com/)

****

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hazel, I love you! I will cherish this far more than any gift I have ever received. Also, I asked for comments to juice me up but you straight up put super soldier serum in my veins. I'm writing at top speed and the next chapter will be posted soon. I just wanted to share this wonderful art with the rest of you, which rest assured, I'm posting with the artist's consent. Please, check out [hazel's tumblr](https://hazel-shithappens.tumblr.com/) and shower them with love.


	29. The Mechanic

The next afternoon, Tony sat in the grass with a book in hand even though he was far too distracted by terrifying thoughts of his lover surrounded by deep sea monsters, and it didn’t help that the book he had picked up was a textbook on the unimaginable creatures of nightmares that dwelled in the depths of the ocean. Happy was also sprawled out upon the lawn with a handkerchief shielding his face from the sunshine. The dogs, Dummy and Hugh, chased each other in circles around them. And in the distance, Pepper and Christine sat upon the picnic blanket laid out for them to have a casual luncheon outdoors on such a fine sunny day. They were playing with the baby. Oh, what a lovely sight to watch them teach Morgan how to crawl.

“I still don’t understand why you asked me to summon the lawyer all of a sudden,” Happy complained when Dummy plucked the handkerchief from his face and broke his slumber with a sudden start.

“What’s not to understand?” Tony asked. “Life is unpredictable, I could die at any moment, and there are two children under my care now. I must change my will at once. It’s not just that, provisions must be made in case I meet my demise before the farming business is set up, a trust must be established to ensure my donations to social causes do not end with me, my arrangement with Christine must be formalized, and a handsome inheritance must be set aside for both Harley and Morgan.”

“But why the urgency?” Happy demanded.

“You know how much I despise this sort of work, so let me power through it while I’m still in the mood to sort out all my legal and financial affairs. Don’t you prefer this over chasing me down with paperwork?” Tony asked, waving it off with an air of casualness, despite his restless fingers plucking at the grass, or the fact that his resident apothecary had ordered him to get as much sunshine, fresh air, and exercise as he could without exerting himself, and smoking and drinking were strictly prohibited, and he sat here bathed in perfume to conceal the stink of death and decay.

“As you wish,” Happy conceded. “I hate to dwell upon such doom and gloom, but have you considered who the children would go to in the event of your death?”

“Umm…” Tony mumbled as he tore his gaze from his friend with great discomfort and searched for Harley. The boy had decided to spend his afternoon climbing trees to show off his strength the last time he checked up on his wild child. “If you two agree to be their godparents, I would leave you more than enough to raise them along with a family of your own.” He had thought about it at great length. Pepper adored Morgan. Happy being his usual jovial self was loved alike by both his dogs and his children.

“Depends,” Happy said with careful deliberation, and yes, bargaining he could handle if his friend was open to this. He would offer the man anything. “Would I get your dogs too?” Happy added, rubbing Dummy’s belly as he rolled like a silly little pup in the grass.

“You could have all my horses as well,” Tony offered with a hearty laugh.

“Oh, I would love that but my soon to be wife would kill me,” Happy replied. “What about that special lady you mentioned earlier, the one you were thinking about marrying? She refused to raise your children?”

“It’s not…” Tony began, shaking his head. “Happy, how would you feel if I told you that this person I love is actually a man?”

Happy raised a brow. “Oh my god, is it Rhodey? It’s Rhodey, isn’t it? I knew it. I knew it the instant—”

“No,” Tony yelled. “It’s not Rhodey.”

“Who is it?” Happy asked. “I don’t wish to lose money to Obi, who wagered you’re boning your butler and that’s why he gets away with the most unprofessional indiscretions.”

“What? No,” Tony replied. “And how are you so okay with this? Honestly, I expected you to be more outraged by my confession.”

“Well, your love life has always been a little too outrageous for me to understand,” Happy shrugged. “I guess nothing shocks me anymore. Is it that quiet apothecary you’ve set up in the bedroom right next to yours?”

Tony let out a big laugh. “No, stop it! I’m serious.”

“Then tell me who is it?” Happy asked.

“Someone you don’t know, someone I won’t be able to leave my children or my property to if I die in let’s say hypothetically a week, and someone you might not approve of if you ever cross paths with him, but rest assured, he has a heart of gold and for some reason he loves me with all of it.”

“I’m just glad that you found someone,” Happy said. “I never thought I would see the day Tony Stark commits.”

Just then, Obi came in riding his horse to ruin their peace. Ugh. Where had he been and why the hell did he return? Tony inhaled a sharp breath, embracing what he needed to do now; he had assured his lover that he would throw out the trash and he intended on keeping his word. Why then were his hands so sweaty and his throat clammy? He could do this. Yes. He could. He wasn’t scared of Obi.

The bastard marched in like he owned the place and helped himself to a bunch of grapes from the picnic basket. “Tony, my boy, it’s good to see that you’re well. You scared us all with that rather dramatic fainting fit last night.”

“Where are you coming from?” Tony asked him.

“The landowner’s meeting at your neighbor Killian’s mansion,” Obi replied. “I like that one. He’s a man of substance. I’m so glad to finally meet someone who shares my outrage for taking down that damn pirate.”

“That’s weird,” Tony said. “I don’t recall receiving an invitation to that.”

“Well, they felt you were neither interested in socializing with them nor invested in hunting down this pirate. Killian took it rather personally when you made light of his loss during his last meeting,” Obi explained before muttering under his breath, “Which is something I can empathize with.” Tony rolled his eyes. “Not to mention, there’s gossip of you putting up your estate for sale so there’s that.”

“How do they even know about that?” Happy demanded. “I wrote to no one in this neighborhood when I sent out letters to the prospective buyers who’ve expressed interest in this property to me and me alone.” He turned to Tony to assure him, “You must believe me.”

“I believe you,” Tony replied because Obi wasn’t above snooping around or bribing someone to intercept a message before spreading the gossip himself. “Last time I checked, you don’t own land here either,” he asked Obi.

“But I share their sentiments of making a sport out of hunting that bastard,” Obi said. “I also promised to arm them and rally the troops after the cause.”

“It seems like Killian and you are getting along splendidly,” Tony said in a fake cheery tone as he stole a grape from Obi and gobbled it right up. “Here’s a crazy idea. I just had it. Stroke of genius. Why don’t you move in with Killian or even Hammer for that matter? It’ll be so much easier for the three of you to plan and strategize your little manhunt if you’re out there with them, and not stranded out here, in the largest and most isolated estate. It must have been such a long journey for you with my estate by the sea and Killian’s farthest inland. How long did it take you to get there on horseback? An hour?”

“Don’t be silly,” Obi waved it off. “I would never trade your company for them. What brought this on? Are you feeling jealous and left out for not being invited to the meeting?” He laughed that roaring laugh which for some annoying reason always made him feel small and stupid like a child chastised for acting out. Before Tony could gather his courage to push back, he added, “By the way, I struck up a conversation with all the carriage drivers, grooms, and other servants who came escorting all your neighbors to the meeting. They informed me that this house was entirely empty until you came here. Your usual butler was living here all alone with no other servants. They were all hired in quite a hurry when you sent word of your arrival. Were you aware of this?”

“I did not realize you engage in stable gossip,” Tony replied, refusing to play his game.

“Oh, it is my favorite pastime,” Obi laughed. “I always learn of the latest scandals from the servants of my friends; their chatter is usually true and highly entertaining.”

“And what have you learned from my servants?” Tony asked to get him straight to the point.

“Sufficient to pique my curiosity,” Obi said with a sly smile.

“How so,” Tony asked with a fake smile of his own to match.

“They say His Lordship has a passion for long walks and fishing excursions in the heat of the day and the outdoors cling to him to the point that he leaves the floor wet and sandy even when he’s holed up inside the house all day.”

“True, I have fallen quite in love with the outdoors lately.”

“He doesn’t emerge from his chambers until midday and yet dismisses the servants usually early in the evening. Only his faithful Jarvis serves him dinner and breakfast in bed all on his own,” Obi said and it finally made sense why he believed Tony was having an affair with Jarvis.

“I did come here seeking solitude after all,” Tony shrugged. “A house full of people gets on nerves after a few hours.”

“Is that why you fainted?” Happy interrupted, sounding quite concerned and completely oblivious to this little game of cat and mouse. “We’ll keep our distance but feel free to let us know whenever you’re overwhelmed by company.”

“His Lordship’s appetite is as mercurial as the hours he keeps,” Obi continued with the servants’ gossip without paying any heed to Happy. “Sometimes he would eat for two and other times he would skip meals altogether.”

“My appetite has always been unpredictable. You should know that,” Tony said with a challenging smile because he couldn’t tell him that, until recently, he used to dine with the pirate they’re hunting every night after dismissing the servants and then shared breakfast in bed with him every morning. He didn’t skip meals, but sometimes, supped downstairs with the crew or in the woods with his beloved hunter and fisherman. And that it was only the love of his life, who could keep him in bed, drifting in and out of sleep and constantly indulging in lovemaking for all those hours he remained holed up in his room.

“They also mentioned that odd noises are heard in the house at night,” Obi said for his final act. “I do agree with them for it felt like living in a haunted house the two nights I slept under your roof.”

“All the more reason for you to move with Hammer or Killian,” Tony said but he made the mistake of undercutting his authority by delivering the blow like a lighthearted joke which Obi simply laughed off. Why? Why the hell was it so damn difficult for him to stand up to this old fart?

“Your servants also love coming up with all sorts of conspiracy theories about the sounds that come from your room at night,” Obi made his final blow in this battle of wits.

“What can I say,” Tony said with a cartoonish expression of getting caught in the act. “I’m a rather loud masturbator, it gets lonely out here, and if there’s one thing I’ve proven it’s that you can count on me to pleasure myself.”

“Tony,” Pepper scolded him as she walked up to them, covering the baby’s little ears like she could understand any of it at six months.

“You know what, I’ll just go take my children on a long walk around the property,” Tony said, strapping baby Morgan to his chest using a loose cloth they used for that very purpose, summoning Harley to get down from the tree he was climbing, and whistling to the dogs to tag along as well. “There are so many wonders on this estate that I would like to show them before it’s sold off. Come along, kids. If you play your cards right, I might even show you the forbidden forest.” And with that, he left behind Obi’s bullshit to go spend what could be his last days with his two lovely children and even lovelier canine companions. Maybe even start a daily ritual of standing by the cliff daily and brooding over his better half, who was searching the depths of the sea for a cure to save his sorry life. He missed Steve. If only he had a modicum of bravery his lover possessed, he would be rid of this thorn in his path, but for some odd reason, Obi had a way of making him feel small and weak and absolutely incapable of holding his ground.

After a long day of showing off all his favorite spots as a kid, and maybe a little bit of brooding upon the cliff, he finally tucked the boy into bed like his mother used to when he was that age. “What’s the matter? Not sleepy? Even after all the running and climbing?”

Harley shook his head before kissing the baby goodnight. Morgan was already sound asleep. Tony handed her over to Wanda to be put abed in the nursery while assuring she needn’t worry about the lad.

“Have you considered reading? Relaxing with a book always eases my mind whenever I have trouble sleeping,” Tony suggested.

“I don’t really know how to read,” Harley shrugged.

“Ugh,” Tony groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I forgot you’re a child, and children are usually illiterate. How about this? What if I read you a book and you just sit here and enjoy a nice story? And maybe tomorrow, your nanny and I can come up with some kind of a plan for your basic education in reading and writing.”

Harley nodded and listened attentively with his best poker face when Tony read a book he really liked to the kid. He thought he was doing a great job narrating it but the boy interrupted him with, “I don’t even understand half the words coming out of your mouth.”

Tony sighed. “Fine. Let’s try something simpler.” One after another he traded stories for simpler and simpler ones, until he gave up, and dug up the very first bedtime stories his mother would tell him as a baby. He didn’t remember them ofcourse. But he had heard of them from his mother over the years, the ones he allegedly loved and the ones he hated. When he stumbled upon one about pirates and mermaids, he thought—why not?—he could use it about as much as the kid.

“You seem sad,” Harley declared when Tony finished reading the book, uninterrupted, but the boy was still wide awake, despite his best efforts to do all the voices and explain the meanings of any rare difficult word that popped up in the childish story.

“I am sad,” Tony replied.

“Why?” Harley asked, tilting his head.

“I don’t know,” Tony replied, wondering how much honesty was appropriate with children. “I guess I just feel tired and defeated and desperately wish I was a braver man.”

“But you’re Ironman,” Harley pointed out.

“Shh,” Tony put a finger to his mouth. “Never mention that, the warehouse, or anything from that night while we’re in this house.”

“Is Ironman our secret?” Harley asked. Tony glared at him for saying it two seconds after he explicitly asked him not to. “Okay, fine, I won’t say it, but how can you be scared given who you are?”

“Because I’m not…I’m not…I put on an armor and did what I had to do for a single night but I’m not _Ironman_ ,” Tony whispered the most glorious title the boy had bestowed upon him that night like it was a cursed word which could summon ghosts if spoken too loudly and too often in the silence of the night.

“Then what are you?” Harley asked.

“If I’m being entirely honest, I’m just a mechanic,” Tony replied. “That’s all I am, all I ever wished to be, and it’s the one thing in the world which fills my heart with purpose and joy.”

“Are you scared because you got hurt?” Harley said, putting his little hand over Tony’s heart.

“How do you know about that?” Tony asked.

“I’m not stupid, you know,” Harley shrugged, “I listen and I understand everything the grownups talk about around me. Is it the bad man you told me to not go near that you’re afraid of?”

“No.” Tony shook his head, though he was hardly convincing.

“Does talking about him make you…make you edgy?”

“Maybe,” Tony replied. “Can you stop?”

“Or is it…is it because you drowned?”

“Don’t. Please don’t,” Tony sighed as flashes of him drowning and being trapped underneath the weight of the armor filled his mind, accompanied by the recollection of Steve dropping into the pool after being struck by lightning, and the formerly repressed memory of his parents’ bodies washing up on the beach. “I can’t breathe when I think about… drowning… people drowning.”

“Does it make you anxious?”

“A little bit,” Tony said, slipping from the edge of the bed to the floor.

“Do you want me to go get the apothecary?” Harley asked.

“No, just give me a moment to catch my breath,” Tony said between gasps.

“Just breathe,” Harley said, leaning over him. “Really, just breathe. You said you’re a mechanic, right? If you’re feeling scared and not strong enough to fight your problems the way I saw you do when we first met, then why don’t you just build something? Like that awesome fire shooting armor, but even stronger this time, so no one can hurt you.”

Tony took deep calming breaths to regain his composure and put his ward to bed. “Don’t you worry about me, kid,” he said, tucking him in and dropping a kiss upon his forehead.

Yet, those words of childish innocence, unwavering belief, and such old soul wisdom followed him when he made his way back to his room through the hallway lined with antique armors that were as old as the house itself. His gaze lingered upon them. Absentmindedly, his fingers brushed some of the chest plates. He couldn’t help but dwell upon the strengths and weaknesses of their designs and work up calculations of his own for something which would be light, impenetrable, dexterous, agile, easy to put on and get out of and lacking the design flaws of the one he donned that night and this iron legion guarding his halls. He could do it. Use his skills to build an armor unparalleled in its design.

What else did he have to do? He could remain cooped up in this crowded house and stand at the edge of the cliff worrying senseless about Steve or he could do something…anything. Empty mind is the devil’s workshop after all. And he was sick and tired of all his demons coming out of the woodworks to haunt both his nightmares and daydreams. There was so little in his control to change his current predicament that his workshop called to him, demanding he retake control of his life because if he can’t beat his sepsis, kick the bane of his existence out of his house, or stop his annoying neighbors from hunting down his beloved then he planned on giving them one hell of a fight and going out with a bang. That is what got him out of bed at the crack of dawn and drew him to his workshop like a man possessed for he craved the music of his hammer striking the anvil as he set out to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much [Hazel](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/hazel-shithappens/631943025418960896) for the lovely fanart which juiced me up like the super soldier serum to finish this chapter, Wolfens and Moss for your beautiful comments that always give me the much needed juice to start a chapter these days, and I realized I haven't done a proper thank you note for my lovely commenters for the last few chapters, so thank you so much guys for your motivating comments: Dodo, EmeriB_98, Cybis, Downeysjr, and JF44.
> 
> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/631954384061874176/hazel-shithappens-winelover1989-the-pirate) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	30. He Has Returned

To the dismay of his house guests, who felt abandoned by his choice, Tony remained holed up inside his workshop all day for the past week, taking breaks only to go out and brood upon the cliff’s edge or spend time with the children outdoors. Bruce wasn’t happy with the amount of physical labor he had undertaken. Though, Tony was far too inspired to listen to his complaints any more than he cared for his guests’ feelings of abandonment or frustration with the constant noise. If they had a problem with that, they could simply leave. At least Bruce and Jarvis figured out a way to work with him, when working against him was proved futile.

The butler had agreed to leave him alone if he ate all the food he brought in there and the apothecary took it a step further by truly transforming his workshop into Bluebeard’s Chamber with all the potions, powders, herbs, and all sorts of bizarre things to claim a portion of the space as a laboratory, more befitting an alchemist or a mad scientist, rather than an apothecary. Bruce didn’t take the news of Steve and Scott leaving on a desperate quest for the cure. It made him feel inadequate, as if he had somehow failed to produce a cure for an incurable disease. Tony didn’t interfere, since he was on a similar mission and could understand and relate to that obsession and drive to scrape up a semblance of control in hopeless situations more than anyone. Bruce needed this. Tony needed this. Thus, they found company in their misery as mad scientists.

They had been hard at work for a week. Tony was more than pleased with his choice of alloy, in which Bruce played a pivotal role, and he was very proud of the craftsmanship of his armor, especially the gauntlet, which had enough joints and moving parts for it to move with the fluidity and range of motion compatible with a human hand. He knocked on the chest plate. It was solid as a rock and designed to deflect bullets, arrows, or any other sharp objects thrown at it. Yes. This would do.

In the crib in a corner, the baby began to holler and the dogs’ barks soon followed. “No, no, hush now, come here my baby,” Tony said, setting aside his armor to soothe his infant daughter. “Look…look at how well the new armor is coming along. What do you think of the helmet? No. Okay, you’re a tough cookie today but we’ll find something to tickle your fancy. How about this? You like this,” he said, rocking the baby as they walked through the prototypes of his farming machines because she always stopped crying whenever she found something new, shiny, and exciting and today it was…. “Ah, excellent choice, my lady, what you see here is a tractor. What do you think of it? Oh, okay, so it’s the wrench you’re interested in,” he asked, taking the wrench she had picked up from where it lay upon the tractor. “No, no, don’t start crying again, I’ll teach you how to use it.” He displayed its use by screwing and unscrewing a couple of nuts and bolts before he let her grip it in her tiny hands, while he did all the work moving it for her, and at last, Morgan Stark erupted in a bubbling laugh of satisfaction and accomplishment. Oh, she was definitely his daughter.

He knew he was absolutely hopeless when it came to raising children, especially babies, since they are just so unpredictable and moody, but lately he felt like he was doing okay and Christine concurred with that. So what if he had a terrible singing voice for lullabies? He could at least teach his kids how to build and fix things. And speak of the devil. When he was halfway through his monologue explaining the use of tractors to the baby, who was hanging onto his every word, Harley barged into the workshop to show off his new and improved model of a potato gun he had made out of scraps.

“You remind me of my mother’s cat, who would ignore all her toys to play with the boxes they came in,” Tony said with a suffering sigh he had grown accustomed with this boy. “All those expensive toys sitting untouched in your room and you would rather play with rubbish you found in the trash. In fact, both of you are such hopeless little kittens for hanging out here all day instead of enjoying the warmth and the comfort of a perfectly splendid manor house full of books, toys, and food like regular kids do.”

“Look who’s talking,” Harley said, sticking a tongue out before shooting a potato at him.

Tony jumped to catch it and said, “The FPS is still too damn low kiddo. Between the long barrel and wide gauge, there’s no hope for it to ever cause any real damage.”

“Maybe I made it to play fetch with the dogs,” Harley sassed. “Ever think of that? And can I help you out here, I tried toys, and they’re really not my thing. I guess I’m too used to working with my hands and assembling things all day to take to this life of luxury where I’m expected to do nothing except learn to read a couple of hours every morning.”

“Too bad I don’t believe in child labor,” Tony shrugged.

“Come on, take me on as an apprentice,” Harley begged.

“I could use an apprentice,” Bruce said from the corner where he was silently crushing something with his pestle and mortar.

“Don’t enable him,” Tony said, poking Bruce with the wrench in hand.

“Please, pretty please,” Harley pouted.

“Sir,” Jarvis barged into the room, “The Captain has returned and is waiting for you in some meadow in the forest but he didn’t mention exactly where in the message passed onto me by Strange.”

“I know where,” Tony said with a knowing smile on his face. He couldn’t wait to see his beloved, and so, he grabbed a cloak, covered his face with the hood, and checked the side door that opened into the garden to see if the coast was clear. “All right, it’s your time to shine,” he told Harley, “Do whatever you please in here. Maybe paint the armor. Just don’t operate heavy machinery or sharp objects or anything that’s too heavy. Whatever you do, make sure you’re being as noisy as I usually am when I’m working in here, and if someone shows up, keep making noise but hide somewhere out of sight. And Bruce”—he called out to the apothecary—“you’re supposed to tell the intruder that I’m very busy and am not to be disturbed. Also, keep an eye on the kid.” He handed the baby over to the butler to be returned in her nanny’s care, and practically ran out to go meet Steve.

It was a very grey morning, but the grass was still wet from the heavy rain last night, sporting a magical silver sheen upon it, and a damp earthy aroma filled the air with new life and hope. Tony had missed Steve so much that his heart was bursting with excitement. It felt like a privilege to have the opportunity to see that beautiful face again, to run into those strong arms, to kiss those soft supple lips, and to tell him just how grateful he felt to have his lover return safe and sound from his perilous journey through the underworld. He had a giddy smile on his face as he looked up at the trees still dripping with raindrops they held onto from last night.

He arrived at a point in the straggling path leading to the dense green foliage where the trail broke off, and he was about to turn into the woods as usual when the sound of a twig snapping underneath a foot, made him pause. He checked. It wasn’t him. Tony hid inside the hollowed out trunk of an ancient tree that marked the entryway into the forbidden forest. Then he saw it. In the distance, a man stood with his back to him. It wasn’t Steve. The man didn’t seem to resemble anyone else from the crew either, though he couldn’t be sure, so he waited for him to turn. The mysterious figure turned only for a moment and it was not a face he recognized. What was even more alarming was the fact that he had a gun in hand.

Tony made a run for it, burrowing deeper and deeper into the woods, making sure to hide his tracks out of an eerie instinct that there was danger looming behind him. His hands were cold and shaking. He clutched his cloak as if trying to disappear within it. Who was he? It had to be one of those spies Hammer wanted lurking on his property for ‘ _security_ ’ and a more thorough search of for the pirates. This must be Obi’s doing. Who knew what he was up to in the last week, which Tony spent sticking his head in the sand by working all day and using all his free time playing with the children?

He felt like he had been running forever through the forest, and he probably shouldn’t exert himself so much, considering how far the sepsis had spread, still, he couldn’t stop until he had put at least a mile or two between himself and that man. He was buzzing with nervous energy. He simply must get to his lover as fast as his feet could carry him.

Panic took hold of his heart when he managed to hike all the way up to the clearing they once retired to after their afternoon spent fishing. Steve was nowhere in sight. Tony called out his name in a low voice. Nothing. There was something so ominous about the silence with nothing to break it but the rustling leaves and the babbling brook. Where the hell was Steve? Did they get to him first? Tony took a few turns about the meadow, until he stopped by a moss covered tree that hung halfway into the flowing stream and fell back to its trunk to lean against, catch his breath, and calm his heart which was beating with anticipation and fear.

Suddenly, a tug at his hand had him falling to the ground and a strong hand clapped upon his mouth to muffle his scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm still juiced up on Hazel's fanart and wrote another chapter in a day for the second day in a row. Fingers crossed. Hope I can keep this up in the future. Thank you for all your comments: fantomfaire, RandomCC27, Downeysjr, Dodo, and ofcourse the lovely Hazel who just keeps on giving :) I'm getting started on the next one now, since its a long and important one...so what's the verdict on the merman smut? Yay or nay?  
> Please leave your reactions, even if you're not great with words and its just emojis or keyboard smashes, in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
> I'm [winelover1989](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/632053487884288000/winelover1989-hazel-shithappens) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	31. Chasing Tail

Tony kicked and flailed to free himself from his assailant, who had grabbed him from behind and covered his mouth. Who was it? Was it the trespasser he ran from? How could he have arrived here before him? Oh no. There could be more roaming his grounds; worse yet, they could have discovered the ship and captured Steve. Why else would his neighbors’ men try to seize him if they hadn’t already discovered his involvement with the pirates? Fear gripped his feeble heart, when horror upon horror, the man’s other hand slipped down to his ass at a luxurious and lust-laden pace. Tony elbowed him and bit the hand covering his mouth.

“Miss me?” the man whispered into his ear with a far too familiar bedroom voice.

“Steve, you bastard,” Tony grumbled, shoving his cruel lover for scaring a dying man to death.

“Is that how you welcome me back?” Steve asked with a petulant pout and a loud whip of his fishtail in the water, because yes, he was still a merman. How did Tony forget that? That fishtail was so…beautiful in the morning sun as it shimmered like a sapphire with shades of royal blue and silver.

“Not that I’m complaining, but why do you still have a tail?” Tony asked since the spell was only meant to last a week, and a week had passed when the sun rose this morning.

“I’ll change back any moment now,” Steve replied, swimming in circles, leaping, and diving to show off for Tony. “That’s why Scott told me to leave the instant negotiations ended and the Pyms promised to procure a cure for you. It was safer for me to return alone early rather than risk turning back at the bottom of the ocean in the middle of nowhere.”

“You strong-armed them into sharing their forbidden magical cure with humans? How?” Tony asked, quite impressed, and to show his lover just how impressed and grateful he was, he shrugged off his boots and began to undress to go join him for skinny dipping.

Steve suspiciously turned away to not meet his eye, under the guise of impressing him with more tricks, he learned in the company of merfolk. “It wasn’t easy. They drive a hard bargain, I tell you that, but there isn’t a price I wasn’t willing to pay for your life.”

“How much did you pay for it?” Tony asked, stripping off his shirt and hanging it by a tree branch along with his cloak.

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve said with a dismissive wave of his hand, looking cocky and beautiful as always, now that those insanely broad shoulders didn’t just taper to a tiny waist, but went on in a truly triangular fashion all the way to the tip of his tail, which unfurled into those glorious fins shimmering in lighter shades of blue. God, he was gorgeous, man or merman.

“You don’t have to blow all your money on me. I’m more than capable of paying for my own medical expenses,” Tony shot back. Even though his lover reveled in a caveman like desire to protect and provide for him, Steve had gone above and beyond the call of duty for him, and he simply could not allow him to keep on giving.

“They don’t care much for our money down there,” Steve simply shrugged.

Tony dropped his breeches, brandishing his hardened cock standing in eagerness and attention to greet its true master. “Then, what is it that they desire?” he asked in a smooth honeyed voice, thick with double meaning and desire of his own.

An ancient and primal fear—buried deep within his heart since the day his parents died, and returned with a vengeance since his own date with death—resurfaced the instant his toes dipped into the water. He had gotten used to bathtubs. Though, anything deeper, bigger, or running had his heart thumping in his chest and the air abandoning his lungs at once. No. He refused to live in fear forever. For the first time in his life, Tony did his best to think with his cock rather than his brain, and focus solely on all the fantastic possibilities of skinny dipping with a stunning merman. Steve. Him. And only him. Tony kept repeating it like a mantra as he walked into the stream with his entire world reduced to his beloved.

“A simple favor,” Steve replied with an enticing smirk Tony was going to wipe off that gorgeous face with a kiss.

“What kind of favor?” Tony asked.

“That’s far enough,” Steve said, suddenly raising his hand and killing the mood to stop him in his tracks. “Your bandages would get wet if you get in deeper than that.” Tony looked down to find that he was submerged to the naval into the warm water without any trace of an approaching panic attack. Wow, the sheer power of being horny for Steve.

When the merman slithered in to close the distance between them, Tony seized his beautiful face in his hands, and captured those soft supple lips in a ravenous kiss, “Aww, look at you all worried about me already.” His hands roamed all over his lover’s soft beard, sparkling with droplets of water, those wet disheveled hair, those broad shoulders, that strong back, that bountiful bosom with those pinchable nipples, those glorious abs that involuntarily flexed underneath his touch, and that fishtail he had been dying to touch. It was slippery. Tony laughed. He ran a hand over where his lover’s ass used to be and his hand slipped right off. He slapped it.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, flustered and blushing all over his entire upper body which was still the domain of his pale Irish complexion.

“Fishing,” Tony smirked. “Trying to catch a big one, a monstrosity I’ve been fantasizing for over a week.” He brushed over the front of the fishtail where the cock he loved so much used to be, but now, all he could feel were smooth and slippery scales.

“Tony,” Steve protested as red as a tomato now.

“Yes, Steve,” Tony asked, abandoning his quest to find buried treasures in the front, to grab fistfuls of that strong and muscular rear which still reminded him of those butt cheeks of steel. “Could you perchance point me in the direction of the merchandise?” He suggestively wiggled his brows to make his meaning plain.

“Come on, that’s just wrong,” Steve said, wiggling in his arms, though he didn’t bother breaking free, despite the fact that he was stronger of the two and in his element. “I’m not a man right now. I’m only half…” he trailed off, clutching his arm with visible discomfort and insecurity over his new body like he didn’t quite belong in it.

“Oh, there are no half measures with you,” Tony said, pinning him down with his lustful gaze and shamelessly checking out his lover’s new body. “You’re the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes upon, my darling, but even as a merman, you just had to be the prettiest of them all.”

“You’ve only met two,” Steve said with a disbelieving shake of his head.

“But I can see with mine own eyes just how beautiful this tail is,” Tony said, running a hand over his deep blue tail and the translucent fins sticking out of the water behind him. “As for this being wrong”—Tony shrugged—“that ship sailed a long time ago when we defiled the laws of god and country in the best and most fun ways to satiate our unquenchable lust for each other.”

“And here I thought it was love,” Steve said, putting a hand to his heart playing at being wounded by his words.

 _Jackpot!_ Squeezing and kneading his lover’s rear, led to the happy accident of him stumbling upon a hole, and because he was in the mood for teasing and toying, he stuck a finger inside to find it slicked up and lubricated in a way that even the water they were submerged in couldn’t wash it away. Steve let out a moan and practically shook in his arms. How flustered, wrecked, and conflicted he seemed told Tony he should explore this hole some more.

“What…what are you doing?” Steve managed to say in a quivering voice. Oh, he was such a mess. And what a beautiful mess he was with his head thrown back, his eyes squeezed shut, and his lips parted as his cock began to emerge from wherever it was tucked away until now.

“Do you want me to stop?” Tony whispered into his ear as he threaded the fingers of his free hand through his lover’s dirty blonde hair and yanked them back quite roughly. He had never manhandled him before. Yet, there was something about this unsure and shy little virgin act his lover had going on with his new body which brought out this side of him. They had come a long way since their first time when he was the blushing maiden. He had learned a lot of tricks from the way the pirate plundered his hole whenever he pleased, and the few times they switched those roles, his lover was most patient with teaching how best to pleasure him. Tony was a fast learner. He was also the older and more experienced of the two, and even though he hadn’t been with a man until Steve, he soon figured out how best to please men, and repurposed his game with the ladies to play in this new league. He would be lying if he said it wasn’t a heady sensation to witness the cocky pirate, whimper and moan, confused and inexperienced with the sensations of his new merman body, and him being the one in control.

“I…I need,” Steve gasped.

“What do you need?” Tony asked, figuring his way around fingering the hole by eyeballing his lover’s reaction to his every move.

“I need my legs,” Steve said, summoning all his strength and consciousness to fight off the hormonal haze he was drowning in until now. “I can’t thrust, let alone fuck you, without my legs. I haven’t figured out how to use this cursed tail to that purpose.”

“Shh… don’t worry,” Tony assured him, now stroking his monster cock in addition to fingering the hole, which was lubricating more and more as he pushed another finger and stretched it out. “Let me take care of you. The only thing I need from you is for you to grab that tree root”—he pointed at the tree half on land, half hanging into the water, the one he was leaning against before he was grabbed—“bend over, and let me have my way with you.”

“Tony,” Steve scolded him. “You mustn’t exert yourself in your condition.”

“I’ll get the cure soon enough. Besides, would you really deny a dying man his last wish?” Tony asked with a petulant pout as he added another finger to the already slick and ready hole.

“Don’t say that,” Steve said, slapping his arm. “You’re not dying! I won’t let you.”

“Okay then, how about an early birthday gift? It’s my fortieth birthday tomorrow,” Tony bargained, peppering wet kisses upon his lover’s neck, which was a sure shot way of seducing the man.

“This is all so weird and confusing,” Steve sighed.

“Oh, look how the tables turn,” Tony smirked, rubbing his erection against the slippery fishtail for some much needed delicious friction. “That is exactly how I felt when you first fucked me. My cock was so confused, yet thrilled with your fingers and that monstrosity, but I survived, and I’m still here and totally whipped.”

“So, this is payback?” Steve asked, flushing crimson, when the exploratory mission Tony’s fingers were on—within the merman’s slick and quivering hole—must have struck gold. It had him rolling his eyes, moaning, and trembling in his arms. He made a mental note to keep toying with that bundle of nerves.

“Do you want it to be payback?” Tony asked, backing him to the tree with a predatory grin on his face. Oh, this was going to be so much fun.

Steve batted those lovely long eyelashes like the terrible tease that he was and turned to lean onto the thick and comfortable moss covered tree root. Now that the water was only knee deep, Tony planted his feet firmly upon the riverbed, and grabbed the merman by his beautiful royal blue tail to impale that eager hole upon his cock. It was an odd feeling, like coming home and going on an exotic vacation at the same time. His cock had to push through the tightness sheathing and clenching up more than what he had grown accustomed to, but at the same time, it felt more effortless to slip through that merman slick compared to their usual lubrication of olive oil.

Steve let out an intoxicating cry. “Did you somehow grow in length and girth in my absence? You feel bigger than usual.”

“Ah, music to my ears,” Tony said, abandoning his decision to sit and wait, for pulling out his dick all the way to the tip before slamming it back in. “But as much as my ego would like to think it’s true, it’s not me, it’s you. This new magical hole of yours hasn’t been breached and taken out for a joyride yet. And, God! That slick feels phenomenal.” He let out a loud groan, and kept going at that slow pace, thoroughly enjoying the feel of the hole tightening every time he withdrew, and deliciously clenching up around him when he slammed back in again.

“Oh God, Tony, yes, yes just like that,” Steve moaned.

“You like that,” Tony asked, leaning in to drop kisses on his lover’s back. “What do you want, my love, tell me, do you want me to pound into you rough”—he thrust in hard—“or be gentle with you?”

“Gentle and slow,” Steve gasped.

“Oh, my soft and delicate darling, come here, let me take care of you,” Tony said, leaving more searing kisses on his back, and grasping that monster cock once again to stroke at a slow and torturous pace that Steve loved so much. This was his favorite thing about switching their preferred roles. For a big scary pirate, Steve sure loved being taken like a delicate and fragile little princess, who would break if not held, and kissed, and told how beautiful he was, while Tony made sweet and tender love to him. It was a wonderful privilege. Steve always made him feel so safe and secure in his big strong arms like it was his job to protect and take care of him. So, these rare moments, when his lover gave up control and sought comfort in him, he was eager to please and give him all that he had to offer. Tony would give him the world if he asked right now.

“I want…I want,” Steve cried as Tony kept kissing him relentlessly and moving in and out of him like a slow sensual dirty dance.

“What do you want?” Tony asked, running his thumb over the pre-come leaking from Steve’s cock before spreading it over the head and the shaft.

“I want to look at you when I come,” Steve moaned, tilting his head back to offer up his neck for him to kiss. Oh, he loved it when his lover got all needy like this.

Tony searched their surroundings to figure out where to flip him. He couldn’t drag the heavy merman onto the grass; he refused to let his lover’s back scrape upon the pebbles and rocks scattered across the river; the only thing that seemed comfortable and doable at the moment was the seagrass swaying with the water. It wasn’t exactly shallow. Still, Steve could breathe underwater for now and would be fine on his back down there.

Steve let out a lovely whine when Tony pulled his dick out. Though, the protest soon subsided when he pulled him into his arms and nipped at those pink pillowy lips before devouring them in a hungry kiss.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Tony whispered against his lips.

“I missed you too,” Steve said, lightly bumping their foreheads.

With a few more kisses, Tony gently lowered him onto the seagrass. He watched with fascination as Steve’s blonde hair swayed along with the grass under the water. It was hypnotic. The sheer force of how mesmerized he was by this man’s beauty hit him all of a sudden. God. He hauled the beautiful blue fishtail over his shoulder and resumed pounding in earnest into his lover’s slick hole like a man possessed. He noticed the change in the merman as well. There was something about being submerged underwater that heightened his senses, made him more sensitive to touch, and go crazy with every gentle stroke of the hand upon his wet cock. Or maybe it was just the position which allowed Tony to tease that bundle of nerves which was so familiar, yet so different from that of the human form he was more intimately acquainted with.

Steve let out a cry, blowing bubbles along with it.

“You like that?” Tony asked with a harder shove to break the rhythm of his slow lovemaking.

Steve nodded before he squeezed his eyes shut and let his head fall back. If Tony died today, he would have no regrets for he got to fuck his merman and witness him fall apart in his arms. The tail hauled over his shoulder, began the tremble, its fin slapping upon Tony’s back, and the his hole had started squeezing and fluttering unlike anything he had ever experienced.

“Come on, Steve, come for me,” Tony begged, and just like that he came undone with a shudder, his seed erupting from his monster cock like a never-ending stream to put the creek to shame, and his hole sheathed and clenched out Tony’s dick so tight and wet and wonderful that he soon followed as well. Unlike Steve, whose moans were muffled by the water, Tony came with a loud groan and filled his lover to the brim.

As they lay there basking in the glory of that magical orgasm, a sudden burst of brightness erupted around them like ten million fireflies. Tony simply sat there staring, unable to comprehend if this was real or his climax literally blew his mind. That doubt cleared up when the fishtail upon his shoulder gave way to a pair of ankles. He snapped out of it when the sparks kept tearing the tail into two and he realized his lover was still fucked out and submerged underwater. Tony yanked him out, pulling him into an embrace, and laid a few light slaps upon the cheeks. Steve was unresponsive. No. No. No. What was happening? What was he supposed to do?

“Steve,” Tony screamed, pulling his lover to him and shaking him as they sat engulfed in bursts of light. “Say something. Please. Talk to me, Steve.”

“That was amazing,” Steve whispered into his ears at last. “You’re getting good at this. I almost blacked out. Hey”—he looked up at the sparks flying around them, completely oblivious to Tony’s torment—“is this for real, or am I imagining it?”

Tony pulled his idiot into a kiss, desperate enough to pour all of his life and soul into his lover. “I think you just turned back,” he said, looking down at those strong long legs.

“Why so sad? Do you miss my fishtail,” Steve asked, helping them get back on their feet and return to land, despite the fireworks still trailing after him.

Tony couldn’t do anything but follow him in awe and reverence. In that moment, Steve was a god, and Tony, a mere mortal who must fall to his knees and worship him. “I’ll always miss that glorious tail,” he managed to say at last. He dropped to his knees upon the soft grass, laid a chaste little kiss on his lover’s thigh, and pulled him down into a tangle of limbs. He had missed this so much. And he had half a mind to fuck again if his aging dick would keep up with his heart’s desire.

“Easy there, sailor,” Steve said, flipping him onto his back. “Look at you getting all handsy now, but when I wanted to play by welcoming you with your favorite game, I was the devil incarnate and you a pious nun.”

“It wasn’t you,” Tony began with a shake of his head.

“It’s me?” Steve asked, raising that signature brow of disapproval.

“No, there was a trespasser, with a gun, a very big gun,” Tony blurted out his scattered thoughts. “And he came out of nowhere. I didn’t recognize him either, I’m pretty sure he isn’t a part of our crew, I think…Did you ask someone to take a few rounds about the property?”

“No,” Steve replied, suddenly alert and vigilant of their surroundings. “Where did you see this man?”

“Just beyond the forest,” Tony replied. “I ran out here, and feared he followed me, which is why I was out of my mind when you grabbed me.”

“Forgive me, my love,” Steve said, dropping a kiss upon his lips. “It seems like your landowner’s association brought in more soldiers, including the ones we fought during the last mission. It must be one of them. Things seem to have escalated faster than I anticipated, in my absence, if they’re willing to trespass upon your lands to search for me. Don’t worry,” he assured him since he surely must look as shell-shocked and petrified as he felt, “I have a plan.”

“You need to leave,” Tony whined like a broken record. “Now.”

“Tony,” Steve said, sounding as exasperated as always. “I can’t. Not until Scott returns with the cure and we heal you. He promised he’ll try to get here by tonight.”

“But—”

“Do you trust me?” Steve asked, pinning him down with his scrutinizing gaze like it was all that mattered to him amidst the madness surrounding them. This was the moment of truth. Tony knew that. All he wanted was for his lover to be safe, but Steve said he had a plan. He was painfully aware that his lack of faith in his lover taking on the terrible trio—Obi, Hammer, and Killian—all on his own and coming on top had always been their relationship’s Achilles heel. Steve needed this. He needed his faith, his validation, and his support. And it was high time he gave it to him. His pleas and begging would fall upon deaf ears and do no good, but his trust might make a world of difference in his lover’s success.

“I do,” Tony replied with a solemn nod.

Steve let out a smile the likes of which he had never witnessed before. “Remember that ruby ring you wagered before we set sail? Wear that tonight. I’m coming to collect.” Oh my god! Steve promised to do so when he ready to say yes to his marriage proposal.

“Does that mean…?” Tony gasped.

“Yes,” Steve said, fingering his own ring hanging over Tony’s bandaged up chest.

“Do you want me to wait for you wearing only that tonight?” Tony asked, wiggling his brows suggestively and grinding their hips together to drive the point home.

“I don’t think it’ll be possible considering the surprise waiting for you back home,” Steve said with that cocky all-knowing smile. “Just stall them for as long as it takes for Scott to return with the cure.”

“Stall whom?” Tony asked with a puzzled shake of his head. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ll know,” Steve said with a last kiss before he abandoned their loving little cocoon of entangled limbs and a warm embrace, to borrow his cloak since he arrived naked as a merman but couldn’t do the same returning to the ship, and it was wiser for him to roam the grounds, riddled with trespassers, concealed in a cloak marked with the coat of arms of the manor’s master than anything else.

“I hate it when you get all mysterious man-with-a-plan on me,” Tony pouted as he begrudgingly dressed up to leave as well. “Be safe,” he added, hugging him from behind.

“You too,” Steve said, clasping his hand with a reassuring little squeeze.

Tony had a splendid walk on his way back home, hardly believing his luck in screwing a merman and having his marriage proposal accepted by his beloved. His high came crashing back to reality when he made it to the trees by the lawn and saw Obi staring out the large window in the salon. Tony withdrew to take cover behind a tree. Dummy—being Dummy the dumbass dog—abandoned his snuffling in the grass and came dashing towards him at once.

“Bad doggy,” Tony whispered when he saw Obi’s eyes follow the dog’s trail.

Dummy simply advanced upon him, wagging his tail, and excited for the reunion as if they hadn’t seen each other in ages.

Obi stepped out of the house cautiously. Shit. Tony slipped back into the woods when he heard the older man call out to Dummy. “Go fetch,” he whispered, tossing a stick to throw the dog off his trail, and Obi along with him. It worked. The instant Obi turned and took off after Dummy, Tony made a run for his workshop. He let himself in through the garden door and relieved Harley of his post of providing him with an alibi by striking metal upon metal and being noisy as hell in his absence.

But as soon as Bruce and Harley left him alone, there was a knock on the door which connected the workshop to the main house.

“Obi, what are you doing here?” Tony asked, practically pushing the man when he attempted to peer inside. It was odd. Most of the house was still in the shadows but the servants were frantically running around making arrangements and lighting candles like they were preparing for something big. “What’s going on here?”

“Preparations for your birthday party, of course,” Obi declared in his booming voice, meant to evoke excitement but only managed to fill the air with dread. “That is why I came to fetch you. It’s time you get cleaned up and ready to welcome your guests.”

“My guests,” Tony demanded, raising a sly brow.

“Yes,” Obi shrugged. “Invitations were sent out to all your neighbors. It’ll be a grand affair.”

“My birthday is tomorrow,” Tony reminded him.

“Which is why we will feast until midnight,” Obi replied. “Then, we will celebrate your birthday by going for a great hunt in the woods to drag that bloody pirate out of his hidey hole. His hanging, tomorrow, will be our birthday gift to you.”

The blood flowing through his veins turned to ice. Fear shook him to the core. He despised that terrible imagery Obi kept triggering him with. “Who the hell dared to hijack my birthday with this silly little manhunt?” Tony roared instead, choosing outrage over giving into terror this time. “Whose idea was this?”

“Well, mine ofcourse,” Obi simply shrugged, more amused than anything by his outburst. As was his annoying habit, he put an arm around Tony’s shoulder and pulled him closer despite the feeble little fight he put up against his unwanted touch.

Tony refused to meet his eye and started in the distance, uncomfortable, disgusted, and scared to death of their plans for Steve.

“Who do you think sent out all the invites?” Obi whispered into his ear, his damp breath clawing its way upon his skin. “Who do you think planned this party? It was all me, my boy.”

Inhaling a sharp breath, Tony walked away from him. Fine. If there’s a party they wanted, then a party they will get. If this is what Steve meant by a surprise waiting for him back home, and his cryptic request to stall them for as long as possible, then all of these boring old countryside gentlemen were about to find out what forcing Tony Stark’s hand means, especially when it comes to partying, decadence, and debauchery. No one could out party him. By the end of this night, they will all discover the reason for his infamy and they would be lucky if they could even stand on their feet, let alone go hunt a pirate crew. Steve’s fight was out there. His was in here. Ironman might have started his war with Obi, but tonight, it was Tony fucking Stark who would finish it once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments: Dodo, Moss, Anthony, just_another_tinker, and Cybis.  
> Guys, please leave your feedback and reactions in the comments section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries. Also, comments directly impact my speed and quality of writing. So help this fic writer out :)  
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	32. The Last Supper

Tony stormed away from Obi full of spite and purpose. If it was a birthday bash his neighbors wanted, then they’ll get a bash alright, bashed in the head with a fuck ton of liquor, bad choices, and regret to last a lifetime. With that resolve, he marched into the kitchen and demanded the menu for tonight. He took one look at the little list Obi and Pepper decided upon before tossing it in the trash. He ordered the chef to prepare a separate meal for the children and him, given his poor health, but for the rest of the party, every single dish must be something cooked in copious amounts of liquor. The cake and its cream should be boozy. Even the punch must be spiked. 

For the salads, soups, stews, gravies, and teas, he offered several blends of downers and psychedelic herbs under the guise of special seasoning he had saved for a special occasion. Even his mushrooms were magic. Despite Bruce’s protests over wasting time mixing, blending, and cooking recreational drugs in their Bluebeard’s Chamber of a shared laboratory, this proved to be far more useful than his futile efforts to discover a cure for sepsis.

Then, Tony set out to create his masterpiece. He cracked his knuckles and sifted through the cocktail recipe cards to plan the most chaotic and disastrous mix and match to destroy his guests in the best way. Let’s see how they’ll go hunt the love of his life when they are too busy hurling and passing out.

The Chef wasn’t pleased with these new instructions and eyed his _herbs_ suspiciously. Still, he was forewarned of his employer’s eccentricity. “I’ll do it,” he said with a suffering sigh, “But I need wine to get started on most of these dishes, and that bloody butler keeps the keys to the cellar on him at all times, and now he’s disappeared with it.” Some flustered scullery maid made the mistake of crossing his path, when he screamed at her, “Where the devil is Jarvis?”

“How should I know?” she shot back. “Perhaps he’s chatting with the nanny in her room as always. Why don’t you ask her?”

“Already did,” the chef fumed. “The guests will be here soon enough, and Lord Stark here, wants the wine to the flow like water tonight, and there is no wine”—he quite literally threw in the towel—“None.”

“There’s plenty of time until dinner,” Tony said, doing his best to captain this crazy ship. How did Jarvis manage him and the staff so effortlessly?

“What’s going on?” Obi asked, barging in like the true lord of the manor.

“The butler is missing,” the chef reported.

“Confounded impudence,” Obi muttered. “This is what happens to a servant when his master is never present and lets him do as he pleases.”

“On the contrary, he does exactly what pleases me,” Tony said, knowing full well that Obi believed he was having an affair with Jarvis.

“He’s far too familiar, and acts less like a butler and more like the lady of the manor,” Obi said in a venomous tone. The Chef nodded in agreement behind him. “I don’t like it, and if I were you, I would simply sack him.” Obi looked down upon Tony; his face flushed and eyes choric like he always did while trying to strong-arm him into giving in to his demands.

“Too bad you’re not me,” Tony said, channeling the way Steve would get all cocky and stubborn and plant himself like a tree and say ‘No, you move.’ He turned to search for assistance and summoned the footman who had just arrived. “Will you please send Jarvis to me?”

“Forgive me, my lord,” replied the footman with a curtsy, “But Jarvis is not in the house. I’ve searched all the rooms.”

“When did you last see him,” Tony asked to deescalate the situation, while Obi glared daggers at him and the chef unleashed his wrath upon the kitchen staff.

“He went to fetch wine for tonight’s feast about an hour ago. But fear not,” the footman assured them, “I discovered he left all the cheap wine neatly stacked outside the locked cellar door before disappearing.”

“Cheap wine is fine for cooking, but surely, we can’t serve it to the guests,” the chef said.

“Why not? Stick to cheap wine and hard liquor,” Tony said in a conspiratorial whisper. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

Jarvis must have gone down to warn the crew of their enemies supping at the mansion tonight. Tony would have told him to do just that if he was still here. But, why was he gone for over an hour? Did he remain with the men to help wrap up the final leg of the ship’s repairs or was he ambushed by some trespasser? Oh, God. He hoped Steve made it back to the ship safely as well. Tony jogged to his room, his heart thumping as it had done once before—when the sight of land filled him with dread on their way to his first and only mission as a pirate—but this time, Steve wasn’t here to comfort him and tell him everything was going to be alright. This time he was alone. And he must play host to his lover’s enemies.

At sundown, he began to dress with great care: curling his brunette ringlets, combing his beard, and dowsing his bandages in perfume to conceal the smell of death and decay that clung to him these days. He didn’t know if it was out of spite or out of love, but he chose his finest royal blue silks and heels to match for it was Steve’s color. The white shirt and stockings he picked were made of the intricate lace his lover preferred on him as well.

Clutching Steve’s ring still hanging around his neck, carefully concealed underneath all that lace and frill, he glanced in the mirror. He was as pale as a ghost on death’s doorstep; all the color had drained from his face except for the dark circles around his sunken eyes. He dabbed a bit of powder and rouge with unsteady fingers. It was his birthday, not his funeral. With a weird pang of jealousy, he looked up at his youthful and radiant portrait hanging over the mantelpiece. How did Steve—beautiful, strong, lovely Steve—still love him, despite falling for the beautiful boy in the portrait and receiving a walking corpse to have and hold instead? 

This is why he hated birthdays. Still, he had a manhunt to sabotage and a promise to uphold. It was time. The night had come alive to the clatter of horse hoofs, the drawing of carriages, and the growing chatter downstairs. Tony slipped the ruby ring upon his finger like Steve had told him to and made his way downstairs with a false smile plastered upon his face.

Chairs scraped upon the floor and all seated guests rose to their feet in his honor when he descended the stairs with his head held high. His gaze roamed the great hall but he saw nothing; not the candles set ablaze, not the decadent dishes being served, not the cocktails he had chosen for tonight’s drunken debauchery, not even the sea of people who stared and bowed and wished him as he passed by; all he saw was the void in the shape of that one man who wasn’t in attendance. Steve. He would gladly trade this ball for a quiet dinner with his beloved. But Steve was tucked away like a dirty secret, while Hammer talked his ear off and Obi clung to him like an unshakable parasite, and Killian fingered his sword, bragging about all the soldiers and mercenaries searching the woods and laying traps for all the pirates he was going to slaughter.

“You plan on singlehandedly taking out the entire crew?” Tony asked, recalling Steve’s story of how Killian hid under his bed while they robbed his house.

“I’ll have help, and I don’t care who gets the others…I just want Rogers,” Killian replied, intense and bloodthirsty as always.

“Don’t we all,” Tony said, hiding his smile in the jewel-encrusted goblet, filled with grape juice, since he instructed the staff to help him maintain a façade of normalcy during his illness.

“His ship has to be anchored somewhere on the three creeks broad enough for it, one of which flows through your property,” Hammer said, now that his trespassing mercenaries were exposed by Killian’s bragging. “We had to post men everywhere from here to the headland on both sides of all three streams.”

“He won’t slip away this time,” Obi said, sounding quite pleased with himself.

“We couldn’t have done it without you,” Killian said, and ugh, Tony could hurl at their little circle jerk.

“What part would you play in this game of your design?” Tony asked Obi.

“I’ll be the guy with the drinks when it’s time to celebrate our victory,” Obi said, raising a toast to that.

“Speaking of drinks,” Tony drew the server’s attention with a loud clap, “Don’t be so conservative with the wine and cocktails. It’s a birthday bash for god’s sake. As for hard liquor, just put all the decanters out here for my lovely guests to pour as many drinks as they want.” All the men in attendance lit up at the sight of the crystal decanters full of liquor. Their wives and Tony’s staff weren’t as pleased with that choice. Pepper practically glared at him from across the room for sabotaging the peaceful dinner she had planned. Still, he had a lot more sabotaging to do to keep them all here for as long as possible because once he cuts the cake and the dessert course ends, they would look from one to another, pick up their swords, and decide it’s time to hunt pirates for sport.

Tony made his way to the overwhelmed stand-in for his _missing_ butler. “Don’t keep the service in the main hall limited to the Hors d’oeuvres. Serve them tea, punch, soup, salad, and mushrooms here as well. Especially the mushrooms. I want every guest to try them,” Tony stressed. “That and the tea.”

“But we planned to serve dinner in the dining hall.”

“Plan’s changed,” Tony said with a reassuring pat on his shoulder. “Let’s keep the party going in here for as long as possible. I want to go big for my fortieth birthday. Only serve the fish course, main course, and dessert in the dining hall.”

“Yes, my lord,” he retreated with a reluctant bow.

“So, that rascal of a servant of yours never came back?” Obi asked, approaching him with an outstretched hand to put around his shoulder.

“It made no difference for tonight’s feast,” Tony said, putting some distance between them.

“You hear that, Hammer?” Obi yelled out to Hammer and Killian, who stood leaning against the mantelpiece. “What would you do with a servant who takes the night off when his master throws a ball?”

“Dismiss him, naturally,” Hammer replied pompously.

“Thrash him,” Killian added with a cruel smile.

‘God, give me patience.’ Tony didn’t pray for strength because if he wasn’t so weak and sickly right now, he would surely thrash all the violence and bloodthirst out of this insolent beast.

“But you see, that blasted fellow is bit of a pet of Tony’s,” Obi began before he turned to Tony with a false air of nonchalance. “By the way, how did you enjoy your walk today? Was it too wet out in the woods?” He knew. He definitely knew Tony was out in the woods today, despite his best effort to evade him. Well, what of it? It’s not like he couldn’t walk his own grounds.

“We should have music,” Tony said to change the subject and leave.

“My grandfather used to have minstrels up on the gallery for such events,” Hammer bragged. “No one has minstrels anymore. Damn those confounded Puritans for killing everything that was once great about this nation.”

“Some things are better dead,” Killian said, frowning; the gibe at Puritans pricked him for his father had fought for the Parliament.

Even Obi, being new money and recently rendered penniless, seemed to begrudge Hammer’s indignation over not having as lavish a lifestyle as his grandfather could afford. “I’ll go play something on the pianoforte,” Obi offered. Hmm. Interesting. So, the three of them weren’t as thick as thieves after all. Tony was dreading facing the enemy with a united front but divided they could be taken out one by one.

Tony parted with their undesirable company as well and set out to take a turn about the room. No longer was he the sulky recluse, who failed to live up to his reputation despite his neighbors’ efforts to socialize with him. The mask was up. He mingled with them, cool, unperturbed, like he belonged to them for the evening, even dangling the possibility of longer in front of the ladies. Never before did he flirt so blatantly, made eyes so outrageously, and act so provocatively.

Killian’s wife, Maya, joined the group of ladies fawning over him, while their husbands downed drink after drink in jealously. “So this is the _famous_ Tony Stark, of whom we hear so much gossip and scandal. I must say, my lord, you had us all fooled when we first met.”

“It seems I’m not the only one,” Tony said with a lingering kiss upon her cheek.

“Is there somewhere I can lie down?” Maya asked. “I feel quite odd and I suppose it’s wiser to stay the night here than to return home alone when the woods were ripe with pirates and mercenaries.”

“You’re welcome to any guest room in my house,” Tony offered.

“Who knew you could be so gallant and hospitable?” Killian said as he walked up to them, practically pried his wife off Tony, and hauled her into a corner for an argument.

Thankfully, one of the ladies interrupted them with a bold demand for court gossip and this time Tony complied. He answered all their questions about the royal family. He indulged them with tales of his misadventures in London. He even went as far as to unload all sorts of outrageous scandals upon them to keep the gossip going before taking his leave.

When he sought out the company of men, at first they were suspicious, defensive, and inarticulate. He persevered. He approached them all with his most disarming smiles and inquired about their interests and pursuits like every word they uttered was important, charming, and understood better than anyone could ever understand them. Then, they relaxed, and melted, and fell under his spell as well. Drunk and high, they all vouched for what a great gentleman he was and all that they had heard before must be slander. It was truly amazing to witness all these proper Englishmen drop their inhibitions, along with that repressed propriety, and suddenly grow uncharacteristically loving and supportive of each other.

His gaze fell to the clock. It was almost eleven o’clock and they all were still eating, drinking, and talking. If he could go on like this for a little longer, it will give the crew enough time to get the ship ready to set sail and enact whatever crazy scheme Cap had hatched. Hopefully, even Scott would return with the cure soon enough and this cursed night wouldn’t be his last birthday. Tony signaled with his eyes for the servants to keep refilling the glasses now that they had backed off, like it was protocol to ensure people don’t get too drunk. 

Tony’s biggest problem right now, as always, was Obi. His slow melancholy music was convincing the drunk and high guests that the party was over. Despite all of Tony’s charm and tricks, they all started agreeing it was time for them to have dinner and leave. He couldn’t allow that to happen. Tony looked down at his goblet. He drank only beetroot, berry, and grape juice out of it, but by the looks of it, he should have downed more than a bottle of wine. He could use that. Drunken people get away with all sorts of crazy things, they don’t abide by the rules, they aren’t polite, and a drunken person could easily slur and sway and sashay their way up to the little stage upon which the piano sat, and could quite literally knock Obi off the pedestal. And that is exactly what he did. He climbed the steps in the mood for humor and jest, and yeeted Obi, sending him flying off his seat and down the stage. The entire room erupted with laughter. God that felt good. This might be the first time they made physical contact when he wasn’t the one feeling small, powerless, or dirty. He wished to yeet Obi out of his house next time.

Tony took his place to play his mother’s piano for the first time since she died with a half-assed apology and a declaration. “Sorry about that buddy but it’s time to get this party started and all of you dancing.”

With great reluctance, a few couples who were dying to dance kicked it off. As more and more people joined in, he kept picking up the tempo to the point where they all but forgot about dinner, and the fact that this party was meant to be a prologue for the pirate hunt. Everyone was too preoccupied with making the best of the ball the likes of which they had never seen before. Some even came up to him to make requests and ask if this is how people made merry in court. Pepper was still glaring daggers at him from across the room. But this time, she brought in the big guns.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Tony said without even bothering to look up from the keys.

“What are you up to?” Rhodey asked, scooting in beside him on the bench and matching him key for key on the other end of the piano. Ah, this was fun. Tony turned to smile at Rhodey, challenging him with a tricky turn of the tune, but it didn’t throw him off his game.

“No good, that’s for sure,” Tony replied with a mischievous smile.

“Pepper is worried sick about you,” Rhodey said before dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I have to ask, Tones, does this have anything to do with their plan to hunt the very pirates you have joined?”

“I don’t respond well to being pushed into a corner,” Tony shrugged. “What’s going on with you, honeybear? You seem mighty anxious. And where were you all night?”

“Hiding in my room,” Rhodey replied, dropping a dramatic note upon the piano. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m the only black man in this creepy mansion, in the middle of nowhere, now full of snooty aristocrats staring at me in a way that makes me want to either become invisible or don one of those many armors lining your hallways.”

“Wouldn’t that attract more attention?”

“Curious looks I can deal with. Fear, even better. This”—Rhodey scrunched up his nose—“I can’t. I’m so queasy and buzzing with nervous energy that I didn’t eat or drink a single thing tonight.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Tony said, bumping their shoulders together. “The mushrooms would have had a horrifying effect on you in your current mental state.”

“Uh, what did you do to the food?” Rhodey asked, backing away in horror.

“Me, personally, nothing,” Tony said, feigning innocence. “I might have asked the chef to cook everything with alcohol and add certain psychedelic and psychotropic herbs to the food. Nothing dangerous. It’s like… the myth of not eating any food or liquor fairies put out to trap humans in their realm forever,” he began, recalling all the horrifying fairy tales his lover had told him to ruin the whimsical recollections of the happy ones he had grown up with as a child.

“So you’re an evil fairy godfather now?” Rhodey asked.

Tony practically choked. Then, he remembered that he had only confessed his attraction towards men to Happy. Rhodey had no way of knowing. It was hard to keep track of who knew what at this point. “Don’t worry. Everyone’s least favorite pirate captain helped me cast my iron gate to help ward off evil fae, so no evil fairies here…just me.”

“Why do you sound so unconvincing when I know for a fact it’s true?” Rhodey asked sounding absolutely puzzled.

“Don’t think too much about it, platypus, just consume what I consume, and if you want to wear an armor, then go wear an armor. But in the meantime”—Tony wiggled his brows—“How do you feel about making all these snooty aristocrats dance to your tune?”

“Sure, why not,” Rhodey shrugged.

Tony left the piano to him, since he could keep things exciting up here, and took to the dance floor to dazzle the ladies with twirls and dips and every trick in his playbook to take their breath away. One woman shyly offered him a red rose. He caught it between his teeth, and went on his merry way dancing with the rest with even more flair and the perfect excuse for not making conversation.

It all came crashing down when he sent a woman twirling away to welcome his next partner, and in his arms, landed Pepper Potts. “I making you uncomfortable?” she asked in a tone as sweet as honey even though her eyes screamed bloody murder.

“You look fantastic,” Tony said; the rose dropping from his mouth.

“You too,” Pepper said, sniffing him suspiciously. “You look great you and you smell great. Since when have you started wearing so much makeup and perfume?”

“Since I turned forty,” Tony shrugged it off.

“Fair enough,” Pepper pouted. “Tony, you need to put an end to this madness. Look around you. This party has already gotten way out of hand. Half the men are passed out or puking their guts out and the other half are out of their goddamn minds.”

“Pepper, I don’t need you to—”

“Oh, you don’t need me? You’re a big boy now? Is that it?” Pepper demanded, taking the lead in their dance.

“It’s a birthday party…we’re just dancing…lighten up, Pep.”

“No, it’s not just a dance,” Pepper shot back. “You don’t understand because you’re you and everybody knows exactly who you are and how you are with women, which is completely fine, except all these women are throwing themselves at you in the hopes of spending the night with you once their husbands leave for the hunt, and their husbands intend to stay here all night to make sure that doesn’t happen or die of alcohol poisoning, whichever comes first.”

“Which means my diabolical master plan is working,” Tony said, wiggling his brows.

“Wish to elaborate on what this plan is?”

“Wouldn’t be so diabolical if I did, now would it?”

Pepper sighed before raising her voice to address the crowd. “Thank all you so much for coming, and Tony, we all thank you so much for such a wonderful night, but now it’s time for us to bid goodbye.”

“No, no, no, we can’t,” Tony protested. “Wait…we didn’t even have the cake yet.”

“You’re out of control,” Pepper said with a comforting hand upon his mutilated chest, which only made it sting. “Trust me on this one.”

Pepper might have the best of intentions but Tony simply couldn’t allow this to happen, especially when leaving meant they would go after Steve, who clearly still needed stalling or he would have sent Jarvis to relay the message. Steve was still out there, fighting to save Tony and the rest of his crew. And he had asked him to do just one thing…stall them.

“She’s right,” Tony said. “The ball is over. Then again, it was over for me long ago. The banquet starts in fifteen minutes in the dining hall,” he declared, and with that, he used the gravitational pull he weaved all evening to draw them into the great dining hall, where the guests as they sat shoulder to shoulder at the candlelit long table, decked with silver, the best porcelain, and large bowls piled high with food. The servants, eager to retire for the night, served the fish course, the main course, and brought out the cake all at once for the guests to informally serve themselves. At Tony’s request, they also left all that remained of tonight’s liquor for them to drink some more.

As he took his seat at the head of the table with Happy on one side and Rhodey on the other, Obi sat across the table from him, still sour over the stunt he pulled earlier. Hammer and Killian, sadly still standing despite being high as kites, took their seats by Obi’s side. He didn’t mind that there was a table full of festive and blissfully unaware guests separating him from his three least favorite people in the world, until an officer walked into the room to discuss something with Obi. It wasn’t just any officer. It was the one he battled in the warehouse, the one who shot him later, and gave him this septic wound as a parting gift. What the hell was he doing here? Were he and his men summoned to join the manhunt as well? God, he needed answers but he couldn’t hear a word of their conversation from here.

“Why don’t you join us for dinner as well,” Tony said, offering the empty seat right in the middle, where he would be forced to speak loud enough for everyone to hear if we wished to speak with Tony or Obi. The officer watched him with the same focus and intensity as he did right before he rained bullets at the thin rusted chest plate. Tony took deep breaths to remain calm. He commanded the officer’s attention with polite indifference, despite the fact that he was teetering at the edge of another panic attack.

“Your voice…it’s so familiar,” the officer said, snapping his fingers. “Have we met before? I apologize if we have and I forgot, but I cannot, for the life of me, recollect when or where.”

Tony looked down his plate, wrinkling his brows and pretending to pull an answer from memory. “I also feel like we have met before. What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t, but it’s Eric,” replied the lean bald officer as he took the seat offered to him and piled his plate high with food.

“Well, I guess we must have met a long time ago then,” Tony said, trying to sound as unlike him and lordly as possible.

“No, I’ll take my oath on it,” Eric said, eyeing him with scrutiny. “It’s an inflection in your voice I’m certain I’ve heard not long ago.”

“Would you like some wine?” Tony deflected. 

“I prefer rum,” Eric said, grabbing the nearest bottle and drinking straight from it since there were only a couple of drinks left in there.

“Why don’t you just tell us where?” Killian demanded with a loud bang of his fist upon the table that sent the tableware clattering and his wine spilling. “What’s with the cloak-and-dagger? Just tell us, so we can go do something about it.”

“What is going on?” Tony asked.

“One of the scouts reported that the pirates are robbing someone’s house, now that the entire neighborhood is busy partying here and all our men are stationed by shoreline and the creeks,” Eric replied. Well, that was odd. Tony wondered why Steve would be out robbing houses when they had far more pressing concerns. No. He promised Steve he would trust him. He couldn’t give in to anxiety, doubt, and second-guessing the way he kept worrying about the storm and the barricade the night they attacked Obi’s fleet and warehouse, only to find out that Steve had it all under control. He must have faith in Cap.

“Whose house,” Killian demanded in a thunderous roar.

“Yours, my lord,” Eric replied with a defeated sigh.

Killian said as he leaped to his feet. “Have you all forgotten the desperate business we gathered here for?”

“My birthday,” Tony teased before he turned to his guest with a guilt trip he had been saving for a disaster like this. “Its way past midnight and nobody wished me. I’m beginning to think none of you even care about my birthday, and this was just a last supper before you all go out to hunt pirates.” He was the perfect brat, offended, slighted, and hurt, and it didn’t take long before everyone’s focus shifted to making it up to their overlooked host.

“You all want to sit here and have cake, fine,” Killian slurred in his inebriated state. “I’ll gather as many men as I can get hold of and lead an attack on those godforsaken thieves all by myself.”

“I would advise against it,” Eric suggested.

“Rob me once, shame on them; rob me twice, shame on me,” Killian said, gathering his sword and his wife and storming out the house.

“Shall we join him or…?” Hammer asked Obi as his gaze flitted from their comrade’s tempestuous departure to all the guests gathering around Tony with cake and candles for the birthday celebration.

“We can’t allocate all resources to protect one house,” Eric said between bites of food. “Not to mention, there’s no need for the pirates to rob an estate they’ve already robbed of its most prized possessions. They can’t be so desperate for money so soon after seizing a great treasure.”

“I agree,” Obi said, “Killian’s estate is farthest inland. The Rogue might have sent a few townspeople to grab his leftovers, while he quietly slips away with his ship.”

“So what must we do now?” Hammer asked.

Outside, there was a commotion of troops being gathered. Tony had no idea this many were lurking on his property, for it felt like an entire army had departed when the clatter of hooves was heard outside.

It was getting more and more challenging to play the court jester, now that he was surrounded by chaos, and the chasm of anxiety kept tearing his heart from the inside, and the two men who violated had his body—Obi and Eric—sat at his table, ate his food, drank his wine, and brainstormed ways to hunt the love of his life. Still, he used the last of his clout as the overlooked birthday boy to shove the boozy cake and the remaining liquor upon his guests. And whenever a guest would interrupt their strategizing, with questions about the night those pirate stole the fleet and this officer fought them, Tony made sure to enable them to the best of his capabilities and keep throwing the trio off tangents. It was even harder to listen and smile at that. Tony remained transfixed upon the tik-tok of the clock to drown out the officer’s exaggerated accounts of his bravery that night, especially when he started bragging about taking down the armored arsonist.

Suddenly, the great bell jangled outside.

“Who the devil is that?” Happy yawned where he sat beside Tony. “Someone is more than fashionably late for supper.”

“We aren’t expecting anyone else,” Pepper pointed out.

The room grew perfectly still, and in the dead of the night, came the ominous jangle of the bell once again.

“Somebody, go open the door,” Obi shouted. “Where the hell are all the servants?”

The dogs jumped from where they sat under the table and went running towards the door, barking and wagging their tails.

Obi rose to his feet, made his way to the door that led to the kitchens, and flung it open. “Hello, is anybody there? Are you all asleep?”

No one answered.

“Someone blew out all the candles,” Obi reported. “The passage is pitch black and silent as a tomb.”

“What orders did you give to the servants, Anthony?” Hammer asked, pushing back his chair in fear. “Did you tell them to go to bed?”

“To bed, no,” Tony replied before offering Obi some useless advice. “Why don’t you call out to them once again?”

“There is no one, no light, and even the kitchen yonder is black as a pit,” Obi said, voice trembling with fear of the dark void ahead of him.

The bell jangled for the third time.

“Enough with the cowardice,” Eric said before he gripped the gun in his holster—the same gun he shot Tony with—strode towards the door, and began to draw the bolts back. “It must be one of our men here with a report. Maybe they found the ship. Maybe they captured a pirate.”

The door swung wide open.

“Who’s there?” Eric asked.

Silence.

“Who the bloody hell is it?” Eric repeated, cocking his gun into the silence of the night.

 _Bang_.

Blood curdling screams erupted throughout the room as the officer fell back with a bullet hole in his head. “Jolly Rogers at your service,” said the looming shadow of a man that stepped over the corpse and entered the hall with a gun in one hand and a shield in another.

“Don’t you dare move an inch,” Steve said, pointing his gun straight at Obi. Tony should be horrified. But he wasn’t. In fact, his lover had never been as beautiful as he was now that he stood at his door like the god of death and destruction himself, having slain one of the two men in the world that Tony was terrified of and holding the life of the other in his hand.

“The rest of you should stay where you are as well,” Steve told everyone else. “I’ve got you all covered.” Thor and Bruce were up on the gallery, pistols at the guests. From the kitchen door, emerged Jarvis with a cutlass pointing at Obi’s throat. Strange was on the staircase. Thankfully, even Scott was here and aiming a sword at Tony with an amused look on his face. The rest of the crew emerged from the shadows as well.

“Everybody, take a seat,” Steve ordered, approaching them with a threatening storm before he traded his gun for Scott’s sword. “As for his lordship,” he said, playing with his sword before raising the tip almost to Tony’s throat with a menace he had never before displayed in any of their games. God, Steve sure knew his way to a man’s heart. “Hand over your ruby ring, my lord, I have a wager regarding it with my Chief Engineer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so they are finally engaged!
> 
> Thank you Wolfens for that big beautiful amazing comments, and Moss for your kind words, and Dodo, Anthony, and windless_dairy for commenting.  
> Guys, please leave your reactions and feedback in the comment section. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries and directly impacts my speed and quality of writing. So help me out here :)
> 
> Also, I might be posting less frequently because I finally sought out therapy, and it surprisingly comes with a lot of homework--very challenging and difficult homework--so I don't have much energy for fun writing after lets say an essay analyzing my childhood. So bear with me. I'll get to the end of this story. But things are kind of messy irl right now.
> 
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	33. Gods and Monsters

Tony took off his ruby ring, and masking his giddiness with fear of the sword at his throat, he closed the distance between them and slipped it onto his lover’s finger with a lingering touch. He did his best to play the victim. He really did. But it was impossible to contain his excitement over the engagement. The dogs didn’t help either. Dummy and Hugh circled them, running and jumping with excitement as if this was all part of a great game they were playing. Tony hoped their warm welcome for the pirate, who was here to rob them, would be perceived as their incompetence from being spoiled rotten as lapdogs their entire lives. That is why he didn’t like the way Obi studied them. Well, he didn’t like anything Obi was doing.

Obi kept hurling insults and oaths at Jarvis, reminding him of his place as a servant in the most degrading way possible, as if Jarvis would seize to be a pirate if only he shouted loud enough. Jarvis brushed his sword at Obi’s throat—not deep enough to cut but enough to draw blood—to remind him of the futility of that plan. Obi shut up instantly. Still, he kept scrutinizing Steve, Tony, and the dogs underneath his cold calculating stare.

Happy was drunk off his mind and staring at the pirates with his eyes agape. Beside him, Pepper sat as cool as a cucumber, but anyone who knew her, could see she was a highly calm, composed, and functional ball of pure unadulterated rage, now that everything that could have gone wrong with the party came to fruition. The rest of the guests sat silent and shell-shocked, almost frozen in their seats like the dead, while pirates took a turn about the room to loot them of their precious jewels. Tony figured it would seem suspicious if only he was robbed. Few of the men present unsheathed their swords to fight for their honor, but alas, they were way too drunk and unaccustomed to violence, and the pirates sober and prepared. Rhodey was the only one in attendance, who still ate his cake and sipped his wine, while he surveyed the scene with bland bewilderment.

“Is that all?” Tony asked, batting his eyelashes at Steve.

“We have a lot to discuss in private,” Steve smirked, jerking his head in the direction of the salon. “I can’t be _satisfied_ with a few trinkets from your guests. Perhaps when I’m done with you, you’ll be squealing secrets and pointing me in the direction of all your buried treasures for me to plunder as well.”

Happy launched his emerald ring at Steve’s face, enraged by all the horrible things he must think the pirate was about to do to Tony to get _information_. “Why don’t you pick with someone your own size? I’m his estate manager. Trust me; he doesn’t have the first clue where his treasures are _buried_.”

Steve caught the ring in his hand, held it to the light, and tossed it back to Happy. “Pretty but there are way too many flaws in the stone for it to be worth much.” He gestured at the crew members to leave Pepper, Christine, and Rhodey alone. “In fact, don’t bother with them either. I can see there’s nothing of value on that side of the table.”

Happy rose to his feet in outrage.

Rhodey squeezed his hand in a silent signal for him to sit down and relax. The ladies were relieved for it. As was Tony.

“When you’re done robbing them of their valuables, check them all thoroughly for weapons,” Steve addressed his crew. “Then tie them up, gag them, and lock them in the rooms.” With that final order, Steve led Tony to the salon at sword point, and oh boy, was that hot.

The instant the door shut behind them, Tony threw himself into Steve’s arms and kissed him with a feverish fervor, because even though he felt bad for his friends’ unawareness and distress, Steve could not have chosen a more romantic way to yes to marrying him. God, this was going to fuel his fantasies for a lifetime.

“I have half a mind to tie you up and gag you too,” Steve said between kisses as he threw his sword and shield on the armchair and pulled Tony into a loving embrace.

“Why are you such a cocky bastard?” Tony said, slapping his butt. “They’re all out there looking for you and you’re here robbing my ball.”

“Your ball, huh,” Steve whispered, running a hand over his crotch.

“I’m serious,” Tony said, resisting the urge to moan. “The countryside is ripe with soldiers and mercenaries here to hunt you down,” he pointed out because he couldn’t believe they were having this conversation again. Steve didn’t want to abandon him on his deathbed, but once they were done with the cure business, he his lover as far away from here as possible. They wouldn’t be apart for long. He planned on joining him as soon as he sold the house. But he wouldn’t stand for unnecessary risks, recklessness, or hazardous performances.

Steve, who could read his moods like an open book at this point, gently cupped his face in his hands, and said, “Don’t worry, my love, I have everything under control. We captured a few troops and seized their uniforms. The scout who warned them of a potential robbery was one of our own. Killian, the hot-headed fool that he is, rounded up all the men lurking on your estate and led them to his mansion, which we have thoroughly booby-trapped. We’ve been preparing for this a lot longer than them. They aren’t the only ones who’ve laid traps for us in the woods and upon the highways. Nothing will happen to me. Trust me,” he said like something between a question and an appeal.

Tony nodded reluctantly.

“Your servants are all shut up in the game larder by the way. They were all incredibly intoxicated when we found them, like the rest of your guests…what exactly happened here?” Steve asked, sounding more than concerned.

“You’ve got your ways, I’ve got mine,” Tony shrugged.

“I got you a birthday gift,” Steve said, pulling up a piece of paper with a little watercolor. Tony let out a hearty laugh. It was the most adorable sketch of Steve as a grumpy and unamused merman and Tony as a jolly old fisherman showing off his catch by holding him out by the tail.

“The privilege of spending the rest of my life with you is the greatest gift of all, but this, certainly gives it a run for its money,” Tony said, holding it close to his heart before pocketing it. “You know what else would be a great birthday gift?”

“Tony, no,” Steve scolded him as he practically rutted against the hand still resting upon his crotch. Damn, it looked even more beautiful than usual now that it was bedecked with his ring. “There’s just a door between us and everyone else. Not to mention, the others will join us for the ritual to cure you as soon as they are done dealing with your guests.”

“Aren’t you the one who came in demanding satisfaction, promising to make me squeal, and searching for my buried treasures,” Tony whispered in his ears, stressing on every word charged with double meaning in the most dirty and seductive way possible, and running his hands all over his lover’s blushing body. “Look at you all proper and prudish now. And besides, all that tying, gagging, and searching”—Tony unlaced Steve’s pants—“would surely take them long enough for us to celebrate my birthday properly in here.”

“What am I going to do with you?” Steve asked with a disgruntled shake of his head but that didn’t stop him from dutifully following Tony as he pulled him by the waist of his pants to the loveseat facing the fireplace with its back to the door.

“Oh I can think of a few things,” Tony said, wiggling his brows suggestively.

Steve slumped onto the cushion and pulled Tony onto his lap. “You look beautiful in blue,” he said brushing a finger over the tired old cheeks covered in makeup.

“Do I?” Tony sassed because he glanced at the mirror after his best attempt at looking presentable for the party, and he only managed to look like a corpse prepared for an open casket funeral. He knew Steve loved him. But he didn’t have to blatantly lie to uplift his spirits.

“Yes,” Steve said, sounding more confused than ever. “Is your vanity acting up again because you just turned forty?”

“Among other things,” Tony said, pointing at his broken heart, covered in rotting flesh, a thick layer of poultice, bandages, perfume, and the flamboyant lace and frill of the shirt he had chosen for tonight.

“We’ll fix that in no time,” Steve said, dropping a little kiss upon his lips.

They sat there basking in the warmth and glow of the fire crackling in the hearth, luxuriating in slow tender kisses and gentle exploratory touches, only made more intense by the ticking clock and the commotion outside that urged them to rush things along. But they didn’t. They savored the moment logic dictated they shouldn’t. This might be the last time they get to do this before he’s cured and they must part ways before paving the path for their future together. Tony wished to revel in every moment of making love to his betrothed. God, he still couldn’t believe they were engaged. As a celebration of the fact, he began to grind his hips into his future husband’s half-exposed cock.

Steve fumbled with the belt and breeches of Tony’s elaborate costume, and when the skilled and nimble artistic fingers pulled out his dick, he couldn’t help but watch in fascination as his ring sparkled upon one of those beautiful fingers wrapped around his cock. He never had a hand fetish. He didn’t. But this was clearly doing things to him. With a loud groan, he let his head fell back into the crook of his lover’s neck. Steve instantly clapped his other hand over Tony’s mouth. Though, not before another muffled scream escaped his lips.

Outside the door, he heard Pepper’s anguished scream, “What is he doing to Tony? What more do you people want? If it’s money just ask us. There’s no reason to hurt him.” Someone was clearly doing their best to escort her away for her voice slowly trailed away, but then a loud crash of a shattering dinner plate was followed by her most commanding, “Unhand me.”

“Your friends will never like me now,” Steve said with a defeated sigh. “Especially her. I was half-convinced I would spontaneously combust if piss her off or make prolonged eye contact.”

Tony lightly bit Steve’s hand to free his mouth. “You should be afraid of Pepper, and don’t worry, she might forgive you if you do a great job here”—he looked down at his overlooked dick—“and I vouch for you.”

“That is a new low for you,” Steve teased.

“Oh yeah,” Tony asked, tugging at his monster cock a little too roughly and searching for balls to fondle. “Why don’t you tell me all about my lows while I have you by the balls, Cap.”

Dropping passionate and needy kisses upon Tony’s neck, Steve begged, “Touch me, darling, yeah, right there…just like that.”

Tony fell under his spell, hypnotized by his praises and moans and all the dirty little secret words meant only for him. He used every trick in the book to stroke his lover’s cock. He teased him. He brought him to the edge. He left him wanting more only to return with even more wanton strokes. Steve was just as cruel a lover while teasing and manhandling his dick. When he felt his release building in his aching balls, he reached out for a hungry kiss to devour his lover’s lips and taste his tongue and beg for a truce.

Steve stopped playing with the precum and the head of his dick and gave in with quick efficient strokes of his warm hands with just a tingle of cold from the gold of his ring. That only drove him crazier. Tony returned the favor with slow yet sure strokes over the monstrosity just as his lover preferred, and muffling their moans with the intensifying kiss, the newly engaged couple came together.

They had no idea how long they sat there with their dicks out, basking in the afterglow of the orgasm they shared. For the time they lay in each other’s embrace, the entire world seized to exist along with all its crazy problems which had them surrounded. Then, reality came crashing in through the door.

“Are you two decent?” Scott asked.

“As indecent as ever, fish boy,” Tony shot back. They were mostly concealed by the back of the loveseat, but when he looked up at Scott, he saw Happy, Pepper, Rhodey, and even Christine staring straight at him through the door closing behind the merman as they seemed to be escorted away by the crew members. “Oh my god, shut the door,” he yelled out, but that hardly did any good because Wanda and Strange followed in after him, leaving that expanding and closing crack in the door for what felt like ages.

Tony flung himself upon the cushions like an ostrich burying its head in the sand. “They saw. All of my friends and the mother of my child know about us.”

“Well, at least they don’t think I was hurting you anymore,” Steve said with a big dopey hopeful smile on his face.

“Or they think this is how you were hurting me,” Tony said, jerking his head in the direction of the now flaccid and subdued monstrosity.

“No,” Steve said, horrified by the possibility.

Someone cleared their throat to draw their attention. It was Wanda. She was drawing… pentagrams and other bizarre symbols on the floor. “Uh…what are you doing there, Wanda? Summoning a demon?” Tony asked as he wiped them down with his kerchief, pulled up his breeches, and made himself decent before getting up.

“Only if you consider a healthy and alive version of you a demon,” Wanda replied, continuing to draw her patterns on the floor.

“I guess she’s summoning a demon then,” Steve teased, only to receive a slap on his chest from the displeased demon, and dramatically fell back upon the cushions with his pants only halfway laced.

“All right that’s enough,” Strange declared as he rolled up his sleeves and sat his magical ass upon the floor to help Wands with the demonic doodling. “It’s dangerous to stay here a moment longer than we absolutely must so let’s get this over with. Scott, get over here, I would need to channel the inner magic of both you and her for this spell to work. And Steve, undress and clean Tony’s wound in the meantime.”

Once again, Steve took it upon himself to play the nurse, but this time he was all business as he helped Tony unfasten all the buttons of his coat, waistcoat, and shirt. He didn’t waste a moment once the bandages were exposed. Drawing a pocket knife, he began to hack them off with the level of focus he usually reserved for his art. An ever growing nervousness and anxiety took hold of his heart when his lover went to fetch hot water and a clean cloth. He wanted to get better. There was really no other option but that or death and he definitely didn’t wish to die, still, experimenting on his body with magic, filled him with an uncanny sense of dread. He watched the magical trio holding hands and chanting spells until the pentagrams, runes, and other patterns began to glow a bit with a cold blue hue. God, he really hoped they weren’t summoning a demon. He would die of a heart attack if these people didn’t stop with their shocking stunts. He still hadn’t recovered from the sight of Steve getting struck by lightning to turn into a merman.

“Okay, let’s get this off too,” Steve said, sneaking up on him all of sudden, and prompting him to remove the chain from which his royal navy ring dangled.

Tony leaped away from the shock of it and held onto the ring for dear life. “No, I need it.” He had grown far too accustomed to seeking comfort from its presence that he couldn’t bear to part with it during such a scary and mystifying procedure. With a smile and a little shake of his head, Steve simply moved the chain out of the way and began to clean the exposed wound to the best of his capabilities.

As Steve wiped off the poultice, he grew as pale as a ghost. It was one thing to know someone was dying. It was entirely another to witness just how, and Tony’s relationship with death had grown so intimate, it must have taken nerves of steel for his lover to stand there, cleaning the wound, instead of hurling in a corner. Tony squeezed Steve’s shaking hand and offered him a reassuring smile.

“You’re going to be alright,” Steve whispered in a teary voice as if to reassure himself.

“All thanks to you, _my hero_ ,” Tony said like a dramatic damsel in distress to cheer him up.

“It’s time,” Strange declared in an ominous tone.

Tony looked to Steve in question, but he only responded by lowering him onto the floor like a fragile little wounded bird. He shivered upon contact with the cold surface. It was quite bizarre to be in the center of the glowing magic circle, all eyes on him, as he lay in anticipation for something… anything to happen. What he didn’t expect was for Strange to come brandishing a pair of sterilized scissors.

“Um, what the…?”

“Not now, Stark,” Strange scolded him before removing his stitches and ripping open his mutilated and infected chest at a speed that was either alarming or impressive.

While the surgeon with the worst bedside manners went to town on the wound, cleaning it more diligently, Scott plucked a sparkly blue cube from his pocket. It wasn’t just a cube. Turning it revealed it was a cube-shaped bottle with some sort of shimmering blue liquid that reminded him of bioluminescence that shone like a burst of stars in the dark waters he drowned in.

“Now before we do this, there is something I must tell you,” Scott said. “My people wanted there to be checks and balances in place to ensure things don’t get out of hand. They haven’t shared deep sea magic with humans in a long time, but back when they used to be more generous with it, humans often abused the powers they gained from it.”

“Well, I’m not going to do anything evil with my second shot at life if that’s what you’re worried about,” Tony said because it sounded rather paranoid to deny a dying man medicine out of fear of what he would do next. _Powers_! Tony wanted to roll his eyes.

“Good to know,” Scott said. “But to ensure this doesn’t make you invincible or immortal they added a failsafe to the cure Steve bargained for—”

“Hey,” Steve protested. “They assured me they would give him their very best. That’s the only reason I agreed to all of their terms.”

“What exactly did you agree to?” Tony asked because it was eating away at him ever since the first sketchy mention of this mysterious payment.

“That doesn’t matter,” Steve cut him off.

“He promised to go hunt Hydra,” Scott blurted out at the same time.

Steve glared at Scott.

The merman instantly shut up and looked away.

“Hydra,” Tony asked, having a hard time believing it. “Please tell me it’s metaphorical and the many-headed mythological monster isn’t actually real.”

“Oh, it’s very real,” Scott replied, “And a menace to all mer settlements. It comes without warning, leaves death and destruction in its wake, and we have no choice but to remain reactive to its mercurial moods, for it lives in the lake on land, and an ancient and powerful spell ensures our people cannot walk that landmass, but that bloody thing can crawl out of that lake and slither into the sea and go wherever it pleases. Only humans can invade Hydra’s lair on our behalf. We’ve tried enlisting their help several times but it never works out well for either of us.”

Tony let out a hysterical laugh before he sat up, despite his surgeon’s warning, grabbed Steve by the shoulders, and tried to shake some sense into him. “Hydra? Hydra is real. And you agreed to battle it to the death in order to save my life? You cocky stubborn idiot! Who do you think you are? Hercules? Speaking of,” Tony turned to Scott, scraping up some brainpower in the midst of this mental breakdown he was having, “Didn’t Hercules slay Hydra in the original myth?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Tony,” Scott shrugged. “Either Hercules didn’t do as good a job taking down Hydra as he led everyone to believe or he simply beheaded the beast and called it a day.”

“Even that doesn’t kill it?” Tony asked Scott without breaking eye contact with Steve.

“No, it spouts two more heads from the bleeding wound whenever a head is chopped off,” Scott replied like this magical madness was supposed to be common knowledge. “If beheaded and left for dead, it would only become twice as strong upon regeneration.”

“What if the bleeding wound is cauterized with fire and properly sealed off after hacking off a head,” Tony asked, unable to suppress the scientific curiosity even though he was bubbling with fury.

“Hmm…that should do the trick,” Scott replied.

“See this is great,” Steve said with a comforting squeeze upon Tony’s shoulder. “We already have the makings of a real strategy. There’s no need for you to worry. Now please lie down and let Strange clean your wound.”

“How could you say that?” Tony said, knocking away the hand. “How could you do this to me? Save my life, agree to marry me, and give me hope for the future when you were just planning on sacrificing yourself at the hands of a mythological monster that even a god couldn’t kill?” Tony puffed out his chest, which was already cut open, and yelled, “Why don’t you just rip out my heart instead? Because that’s a better fate than living to see the day you pay for my life with yours. This is horrible. This is the worst,” he kept repeating as he sat there with his head in his hands, rocking back and forth, while he absorbed the earth shattering news that Hydra was real, and his suicidal future husband had just signed up to kill something even Hercules failed to, despite his unparalleled strength and immortality. Tony had made his peace with dying of sepsis. He was fine with it. No. But no. They just had to slowly kill him with the shock and stress of all this magical nonsense.

_(Another wonderful[gift](https://hazel-shithappens.tumblr.com/post/634036139057201152/winelover1989-how-dare-you-write-such-a-good) from the generous, talented, and simply the best [HAZEL](https://hazel-shithappens.tumblr.com/))_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized this story crossed 100k after last chapter, yay!!!  
> Thank you so much for ALL these wonderful comments Dodo, Anthony, Andycream, Downeysjr, Cybis, Daughter_of_a_fangirl, aylovebucky, wolfens, moss, and Reignoftears21 who left so many reactions on multiple chapters while binging the fic.
> 
> Keep commenting, guys. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries and directly impacts my speed and quality of writing. I'm [winelover1989](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/633969435855781888/winelover1989-winelover1989-winelover1989) if you wish to share it with your followers.
> 
> Also, thanks for all your well wishes for me seeking therapy. My therapist suggested I start seeing a psychiatrist too for a diagnosis and some medication. I'm kind of nervous about it. I'm totally going to finish this story though. Writing it and interacting with you all is such a such a bright light in these dark times. And I've got no more heavy homework from therapy right now so I'm aiming to get more writing done for this fic :) Just have to figure out how this fishy tesseract will impact both of them.


	34. Soulmates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Slaps roof of this fic* This bad boy can fit so many trashy romance tropes!

Steve did his best to cajole and comfort Tony, reminding him of just how much he loved him, and that hunting a mythical monster was just something he was willing to do to save his life, and if their roles were reversed, Tony would have done the same for him, and that they would get through it together. The words made sense. Yet, they did nothing to soothe him. Tony was devastated and absolutely inconsolable. The only thing that helped him snap out of it was his abominable surgeon yanking him back onto the cold floor to finish cleaning his wound. 

“Please just talk to me,” Steve begged. “I’m sorry but there was no other way, and it’s not like I plan on facing Hydra with a sword and shield alone; the merfolk promised to arm me with magic.”

“Yes,” Scott chimed in, raising the sparkly blue cube. “This will provide you with all that you need to defeat Hydra.”

“I thought that was supposed to be my cure,” Tony said, feeling more and more bamboozled by the moment. He knew deep sea witches were evil. It said so in every story. So much for the crew’s assurances that these were benevolent and kind witches, who wouldn’t take voices and souls as payment for their services rendered. Here they sat. No cure. Steve manipulated into signing his death warrant in his most desperate moment. And the problems of gods and monsters.

“As did I,” Steve accused.

“It is you Pym trusts,” Scott told Steve, waving his little magic cube around. “It’s you, who came seeking help; you, who struck the bargain; you, they made a deal with. Now, it is you, who must save him.”

“Me,” Steve asked, desperate and dumbstruck.

“He will be cured because you want him to be,” Scott replied. “The elixir will give you what you need to keep your promise to my people, and Tony will live as long as you do, for his soul will be bound to yours.”

“Live as long as I do,” Steve yelled out. ”What if I die in combat or have an accident? Will he follow me to the grave? God damn it, Scott, I agreed to everything they said, everything, and I thought we had a deal, and now you return with this… this half-assed cure with all these capricious conditions.”

“Would this binding affect him in any way?” Tony asked, anxious all of a sudden because he could be reckless with his own life but not when his lover’s.

“No, no, no,” Scott grumbled, hating every moment of it. “Tony will die of old age as soon as Steve kicks the bucker, but either of you can die of unnatural causes before that without having any affect whatsoever on the other.” He uncorked the bottle and offered it to Steve. “Go ahead, drink half of it, and pour the rest in his wound.”

Steve accepted the elixir but didn’t drink it; instead, he took Tony’s hand in his and dropped a little kiss upon it. “We will get through this together; we will deal with Hydra together; even for this spell to work, our souls must be bound together. That’s the only way out of this mess. Together. Now, I know you think I’m stubborn, and reckless, and take unnecessary risks. But your dramatic ass isn’t perfect either.”

“Hey,” Tony protested. “My ass is perfect and you love it, Rogers.”

“Well, this is a welcomed mood swing, but see, this is what I’m talking about,” Steve said, pointing at him like it was supposed to prove some point that everyone but him understood loud and clear. “You’re a mercurial menace but you’re my menace. I love you, and I know you’re mad at me for making this deal, but I need you to remember that you love me too.”

“As if I can ever forget,” Tony replied, rolling his eyes because god damn it, sometimes he desperately wished he could forget how much he loved this stubborn idiot, who didn’t have an ounce of self-preservation in him, but even when he desperately tried to forget and just marinate in his misery for a while, he simply could not let go of affections.

“Please,” Steve urged. “I need you to let this Hydra thing go.”

“Or what,” Tony demanded haughtily, “You won’t cure me?”

“Could you two save the bickering for _after_ you’re married?” Wanda asked as she sat there with a hand clapped upon her head waiting for the ritual to begin.

“You’re right,” Tony conceded. “And I’m not just saying that because this magic is super vague and intuitive and relies solely on your intentions, but because who knows when we’ll see each other once the spell is cast, I’m healed, and you must leave for Ireland.”

“You mean _we_ leave for Ireland,” Steve corrected.

“I’ll join you soon enough, I promise,” Tony said, grasping his lover’s hands in silent prayer. Steve never listened to any of his warnings, requests, or cautionary advice. Tony had made his peace with that. But when his cruel lover asked he trust him, he did, and he wanted just this one thing in return for his peace of mind.

Steve made no such promise, but merely seized his lips in a desperate kiss that left him dazed, almost wiping the memory of the deal and the conflict it unleashed. As always, Tony forgave him. God. He wished he had more fight in him. But he didn’t. Not with Steve. Never with Steve. The bastard knew he was his greatest weakness and wasn’t above capitalizing on the fact.

Steve’s lips drew away from his, leaving him wanting. Gaze flitting from his eyes to his lips, his lover drank him in with the promise of forever in those beautiful blue eyes, and then, he uncorked the bottle with his mouth and gulped down half the elixir. Steve pushed Tony back onto the floor bedecked with the glowing witchy symbols. Before Tony could even make sense of it, Strange, Scott, and Wanda joined hands and began chanting their spells, while Steve, stretched open the festering chest wound with one hand and poured in the elixir in a slow steady drip with the other.

“I love you,” Steve said as if willing life into Tony’s broken heart by the sheer force of his stubbornness.

“I love you too,” Tony mouthed to express his gratitude for all that his lover had done and was still doing to drag him back to the land of the living. Woah. Something felt weird. He felt his chest burning but also… cold… so damn cold at the same time.

Tony looked down to find the elixir shining bright when it made contact with the flesh. Weirder still was the dryness and the odd taste in his mouth. Tony stuck out his tongue and tried to clear his throat. “Tastes like coconut…and metal. Oh, wow, yeah.” No longer was he even aware of the sights and sounds around him. All he knew was the coolness coursing through his veins like a soothing balm, the burst of starlight emanating from his chest, and the electric pulses dancing upon every nerve ending leaving him buzzing with energy like a livewire.

When he regained possession of his senses, the first sensation he awoke to was his lover’s hand firmly planted over his still glowing scar. It didn’t hurt. His flesh was healthy. He smelled alive. And felt a lot better than he did before. No longer did he feel sepsis killing him like a slow poison. Instead, he found a blue scar stretched across his half his chest, slowly pulling the flesh inward and setting in place as the elixir thickened to a gel like consistency. He felt suspended between life and death. Even though he was free from the clutches of death, the cruel mistress still lurked in the corner awaiting his return into her cold and crushing embrace. Tony turned to Steve in search of comfort, warmth, and a lifeline. Their eyes locked only for a moment. And then it happened.

Steve’s veins began to glow just like the glowing scar, now carved into Tony’s chest, and they were both cocooned in bursts of blue light that engulfed them. The entire world seized to exist. Here, it was just them. Two men. One overflowing with life. One drowning in death.

In the dark abyss where, Tony fell weary and depleted, Steve reached out to him with every fiber of his being. They were bound and intertwined with an invisible force. Tony felt it down to his very bones. His lover breathed life into his soul… until he felt alive once more… until they became one.

They returned to reality tethered to one another and changed. Steve’s touch felt different—strong, tough, and crushing—and it took him a moment to realize he might be hurting Tony before he loosed up. Tony felt a changed man as well. How? He wasn’t sure. He simply felt a fire burning within him with vitality, vigor, and virility, and the scar glowing blue scar stretched across his chest was now set as hard as stone. Tony knocked upon it to confirm his suspicion.

“It seems I’ve become hard hearted,” Tony joked.

“Comes with age, old man,” Steve joked back.

“Hey,” Tony slapped his arm.

“Hmm…I didn’t feel that at all,” Steve observed. “Come at me full force?”

“You sure about that,” Tony asked.

Steve nodded.

Tony complied.

“Felt that one,” Steve said before reassuring Tony, “only barely. Seems like there’s no reason for you to fret, I’ve got the strength of Hercules to accomplish his labor.”

Tony shook his head in disbelief.

“Do you need to rest my love?” Steve asked, helping him get up as the magical trio packed up and prepared to leave.

“I feel as healthy as a horse,” Tony replied, springing to his feet to prove his point.

“We’re all heading downstairs to get the ship ready to set sail,” Wanda said before they left them alone in the room.

“Remember when you wanted us to run away together?” Steve said, helping him button up his disheveled clothes.

“I do, but now I finally understand the importance of proper planning.” Tony smiled. “All thanks to you.”

“Screw that,” Steve said, tugging at his collar to draw him closer. “Come with me. You could… I don’t know… leave a letter or something for your estate managers to tie up all the loose ends here. Why must you remain here for any of it?”

“Why the sudden change of heart?” Tony asked, unable to comprehend this sudden reversal of roles. Did the magic fry Steve’s brain somehow? Or was this for real?

“Because my ship might set sail to new waters and be free, along with its crew,” Steve said with a heavy heart, “But its captain will forever remain captive.”

“How so,” Tony asked.

“I am bound to you as you are bound to me,” Steve said, holding a hand up to the stone cold scar etched across Tony’s half-exposed chest. “That invisible thread that just stitched our souls together was drawing us towards each other even before our paths crossed. When I first came to winter here, lay in your bed, and looked up at that petulant pout plastered upon your portrait, I smiled to myself, and half-joked—him and none other—because deep down I somehow knew that our time would come.”

“But I’m no more that bright young boy from the portrait,” Tony said, waving a hand at his scarred and aging form, since his lover’s confession warmed his heart, but also fanned the flames of his insecurities in equal measure.

“You’re not,” Steve whispered, cupping his cheeks. “You still have those big brown eyes that are just as playful, curious, and careless, and you still have that petulant pout from time to time, but you’ve also grown hardened and disillusioned with time, and the more I know you and see you for who you truly are, the deeper my love grows.”

Tony rest his head against Steve’s and let out a sigh now that he was overcome by emotion. “To be honest, I never believed in any of this soul mate crap…that there would be someone out there I could be one with in mind, body, and soul. Yet, here we stand. I don’t feel bound to you, so much as tethered and grounded after years of drifting like straw blown in the wind. That is why I can say with certainty that this isn’t goodbye but _until then_.”

“That night when we returned home and Jarvis brought the news of your friends’ arrival,” Steve said with great difficulty as admitting vulnerability never came easy to him despite his candor. “I knew we could no longer be together as we had grown accustomed to, and that our days here were numbered. When you rushed upstairs without so much as a goodbye, it broke my heart—”

“Oh, Steve,” Tony whispered. “I’m sorry. There was far too much on my mind that night.”

“I know,” Steve replied. “It wasn’t you that broke my heart but the realization that there’s no escape for me. Ever. I’ve become a prisoner in a dungeon deep and you held the key to my heart. I know you have responsibilities here. You’re a baron, a respectable businessman, a father of two now, and I, a pirate, an outlaw, and an enemy to your friends and country. I know that. I understand it. Still, I wish for you to pack your things, get the kids and the dogs, and come with me to Ireland. Let’s do this. Let’s run away together and get married at sea and join our houses. We’ve waited long enough.”

“It’s a rather tempting offer,” Tony said, finally gathering the courage to look him in the eye for he feared his heart would explode if he saw the look in those beautiful eyes while his lover made his confession.

“Say yes,” Steve urged.

“How long do I have?” Tony asked, torn between all that he had to look forward to and the mess he would leave behind for his friends to pick up the pieces.

“The ship would set sail in an hour,” Steve replied. “I’ll wait for you on the beach. Get whatever you need and tell Jarvis to signal us if he needs help hauling your things downstairs.”

“It won’t take long for me to pack,” Tony decided. It might be impulsive and irresponsible but to hell with it. He had waited long enough to find love. “Have the crew load up everything in my wine cellar onto the ship. My wine, my silks, and my new armor are honestly the only things I care about in this godforsaken house.”

“I’ll see you then,” Steve said with a triumphant smile and a parting kiss before he left.

“I’ll see you, beloved,” Tony said as he watched Steve disappear into the darkness of the hallway leading him to the cellar.

Tony ran upstairs to go find Jarvis, who practically jumped at the good news and set off to go pack his things. He, on the other hand, penned down a detailed list of instructions for Happy and Pepper to manage his interests in his absence, and as coherent an explanation as he could come up with to explain this outlandish situation. He left it with the butler. Jarvis was meant to drop the letter in their guestroom before moving on to packing the children’s’ things. Tony left to take care of the last order of business and haul out his new armor from the workshop. He was delighted to discover that Harley had pained it red and gold just like the other armor. With a big smile on his face, he carried the heavy armor out with ease. Oh, to not be dying of a fatal disease. He almost forgot how it felt to have life, strength, and hope.

The noise and the commotion in the wine cellar had seized so the crew was probably done loading it all up on the ship. The house was eerily silent with no sound but the ticking clock and the whistling wind blowing in through the open window, making the flames of few candles the still burned, dance with a sinister play of light and shadow. In such strange forlorn stillness, the aftermath of his birthday ball seemed like the backdrop of a chaotic renaissance painting. Tony shook his head. A bloody renaissance painting. He had been spending far too much time with Steve and his passionate ramblings about art.

Dummy emerged from underneath the dining table, tired and sleepy, and Hugh gracefully followed after him. “There you are,” Tony said, gesturing for the dogs to follow him. “Come on. We’re all going on a trip.” He herded them along and made his way to the children’s room.

Though, when he climbed the great staircase, an odd sound startled him. Holding onto the railing for dear life, he peered into the dark corridor, and heard it once again, the sound of shoes scraping against the floor, slow and dragging, knocking and stumbling against things in the dark.

“Who goes there?” Tony demanded.

No answer.

A chill swept through his body when the dragging and shuffling were accompanied by a faint suffering sigh. _Tick. Tick._ The clock practically screamed in the ominous silence. The dragging and the groaning and the moaning kept growing louder and louder as he stood there terrified and frozen on the spot. The dogs seemed unfazed. So it couldn’t be a threat. Though, their spoiled asses wouldn’t sense a threat even if it hit them in the head.

Tony rushed to grab the only candle still burning in the hallway. He held it up to the source of the noise, mustering up all the courage in him, but it failed him the instant a ghastly figure fell into his arms.

Jarvis.

The butler’s face seemed pale ashen, his arm hanging useless at his side, and he was completely out of his senses. Tony inspected him by candlelight, and horror upon horror, there was blood dripping from his arm. The only thing he could think of, was to lead the butler downstairs to the salon where Strange had left behind all the surgical stuff he used to treat Tony.

“He…” Jarvis mumbled. “I went to put the letter in the guest room. They got out. They…. From the other room… where they were locked, sir… they got out.”

“Who got out?” Tony asked, struggling to help him descend the stairs in his current condition.

“He attacked me,” Jarvis whispered. “I fought him but….”

“Who attacked you?” Tony asked as they finally made it to the salon.

“I did.”

No. No, no, no. Tony threw Jarvis into the salon and bolted the door because that’s the best he could come up with to ensure the butler’s safety. He turned around to look up, and lo and behold, atop the staircase, stood Obi, his white shirt smeared with blood and a bloody knife in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thanks to the lovely [Hazel](hazel-shithappens.tumblr.com) for this wonderful [fanart ](hazel-shithappens.tumblr.com/post/634036139057201152/winelover1989-how-dare-you-write-such-a-good) of Steve's birthday gift to Tony. I've also added it at the end of the previous chapter. If you missed it, I highly recommend checking the previous chapter or the link here. Also, thank you Dodo, aylovebucky, wolfens, Dreamkeeper8, and SWAF for leaving comments.
> 
> Reader, please leave your reactions and feedback in the comment section as well. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries and directly impacts my speed and quality of writing. So help me out here :)
> 
> I'm [winelover1989](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/634518232554930176/winelover1989-winelover1989-winelover1989) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	35. I am Ironman

The moment stretched to eternity while Obi stood atop the staircase looking down upon Tony. When he made his slow descend, he kept his gaze fixed upon him like a predator approaches its prey. Tony backed away from the salon, where he locked the injured butler for his own safety, to draw Obi away from Jarvis. Tony wasn’t concerned for his own wellbeing at first. Though, fear slowly crept under his skin as he backed away towards the main hall.

Tony didn’t speak. He waited for Obi to break the silence. Obi simply stood there, staring, clad in his bloody shirt, brandishing the knife he stabbed Jarvis with. Then, he took a seat and placed the knife on the side table like this was the most casual of circumstances.

“I see those pirates didn’t rob you,” Obi said, gesturing in the general direction of all the art and décor. The familiarity in his voice and the casual demeanor felt sinister accompanied by the look of a butcher planning to break down a deer carcass. Obi’s gaze was something he had always hated. Now, it terrified him.

“On the contrary, the wine cellar is empty and my room ransacked,” Tony replied most truthfully and casually even though this was mind was running restless, searching for something to wield as a weapon now that his sword lay in his bedroom and the armor in a dark corner. He hoped, nay, he prayed Obi wouldn’t look that way.

“Your ring too,” Obi reminded him.

Tony simply shrugged. What Obi made of what he witnessed was of no consequence to him, now that he was so close to putting the pretense of polite society behind him, and riding off into the sunset with the man he loved. The only thing that mattered now was to de-escalate the situation and figure out Obi’s next move.

“I have never seen a man so happy to be robbed,” Obi said.

“What can I say?” Tony said with a half-smile, “I’m rarely serious. You should try it sometime.”

“I am,” Obi chuckled, waving his hand at his bloody shirt. “I decided, enough with the serious plans, time to have some fun…and I did. I immensely enjoyed slicing up that traitorous butler of yours. And you know what I found most amusing about it?”

“What?” Tony asked between gritted teeth.

“He seemed to be doing a chore for you like a dutiful servant, despite exposing himself as a pirate earlier tonight,” Obi said. “Funnier still, in order to piece together the final piece of the puzzle, I let him go, instead of finishing him off. And what do you know? Lo and behold. You helped and protected him from me as if he hadn’t just betrayed you and helped rob your birthday bash but was still your loyal little pet.”

Tony didn’t respond, and oddly, found himself paralyzed by fear.

“That familiarity between you two, which I mistook for an affair at first, was actually the camaraderie among co-conspirators. Wasn’t it? For you knew, all along, that he was a spy for that pirate captain, whom you look at with more wonder, admiration, and worship than you’ve ever bestowed upon anyone else,” Obi said in a low and scary voice; it was barely a whisper, but it rang too loud in the silence of the night. All the while he looked at Tony with such hatred and betrayal. Had Obi figured out that he had a hand in the attack on his fleet and warehouse? Why else the vengeance and resentment?

“Aren’t you going to deny it?” Obi asked.

“I’m sorry, I don’t hear a question in there,” Tony sassed. “Just the paranoid ramblings and conspiracies of an old man covered in blood.”

Obi picked up the knife and began playing with it to remind him who is in charge. “You could be imprisoned for this, even hanged, if the truth of your deviance ever came out.”

“Yeah,” Tony asked. “Like the truth of you trying to force yourself upon me during that drunken carriage ride we pretend never happened?” It was liberating to say it out loud. The words lifted a crushing weight off his chest, leaving him free from the prison of shame and guilt and powerlessness he had trapped himself in for so long. Only when he let go of them, did he realize that he had no reason to be ashamed. It was Obi, who deserved all the blame and shame.

“It’s your word against mine,” Obi growled, no longer bothering to conceal his depravity underneath the false façade of the affectionate handsy uncle.

“And what do you have?” Tony shot back. “Fancies built upon my lack of fear while being robbed by a pirate? Go ahead. Tell your little story to the world. They will call you madman for thinking me anything but brave for it.”

“Not if we capture your precious pirate and torture a confession of sodomy along with the rest of his crimes,” Obi said, poking at the tip of the blade with his finger. “Even if he refused to give you up, you would surely give yourself away when made to witness his fate.”

“It’s good,” Tony said. “It’s good to have dreams… even the ones that will never come true.”

Obi smiled. “I’m not the only one who managed to escape tonight. I set Hammer and few other gentlemen free as well. As we speak, they are making a run for their estates to send some soldiers this way, and when the cavalry arrives, they will seize your pirate.”

Tony made the mistake of looking to the hallway leading to the wine cellar in a panicked plan to go warn the crew. Obi caught him doing so. His lips stretched in a cruel triumphant smile. “Let me guess, the empty wine cellar from where I once caught you emerging with boots covered in water and sand. I almost forgot about that private beach on the property where your parents’ bodies washed up. Should have known you’re hiding him there. Should have known….”

“Go ahead,” Tony said, gesturing in the general direction of the wine cellar. “Take your knife and go fight the pirate captain hiding down there because his ship would set sail by the time your men arrive.”

“God, look at you cheering on that common thief you spread your butt cheeks for, after a lifetime of acting like you’re straight as an arrow and too good for the likes of me,” Obi roared, exploding out of his seat, knife in hand. “You could have fooled anyone with that little show of resistance you put up in that night in the carriage.”

“Have you considered that it’s not men in general, but specifically you, I found so revolting?”

Obi turned away to let out a deranged laughed before he kicked one of the dogs to take out his frustration over the rejection. Hugh scurried away, whining, with a tail between his legs. As Obi saw him run away, his gaze landed upon the red and gold armor, and all hell broke loose.

“What is that? What the hell is that?” Obi yelled. “The reports, all the reports, they said…they mentioned the armored knight in flamboyant red and gold gear,” he mumbled to himself, running a hand over his bald head, “And that substance… flammable even in the rain… no one had ever seen such a strange concoction.” He turned to face Tony, pointing a finger in accusation. “It was you. You’re—”

“That’s right Obi,” Tony said, clinging to his composure for dear life. “It was me. I donned the armor; I led the pirates to your fleet; I burned down your weapons’ warehouse, not just this one but also the one in India.” God damn it, he might have chosen the worse possible moment to do so, but it felt wonderful to stand his ground and reclaim some power in their dysfunctional dynamic. The risk was worth the reward for the priceless look on Obi’s face. “I am Ironman.”

“You selfish bastard! All you ever think of is yourself, what serves you best, and these childish games of yours. No more,” Obi declared in a soft menacing whisper before he lunged at him with a loud battle cry. “I will kill you. I’m going to carve your fucking heart out.”

Tony stumbled back in an attempt to evade the attack, but somehow, Obi managed to pin him down onto the sofa behind him. Oh, no. Time almost came to a standstill. Tony’s gaze flitted down to the knife aimed towards his heart, but he suddenly felt as powerless as that drunken night, when Obi attempted to assault him in a different way. The knife landed upon his chest. But it didn’t pierce his flesh. Instead, the tip of the knife got entangled in Steve’s royal navy ring hanging in a chain around his neck and the tip of the blade ended up upon the gaping scar stretched over his chest as hard as stone.

“Performance issues aren’t uncommon with men your age,” Tony smirked, capitalizing upon Obi’s shock and horror to knock the knife out of his hands and summoning every ounce of his strength and will in his previously petrified body to push the man off him. “One out of five men…”

Obi attacked him again, red with rage and a thirst for revenge. Tony was quick to dodge this time. He slipped away from the sofa and grabbed a wine glass lying on a nearby table to fling at him. It blinded him for only a moment when the drink spilled all over him and the glass shattered upon the floor.

Tony used the opportunity to elude him, grab a heavy chair, and sent it crashing upon Obi’s stupid bald head, hard enough to leave him fumbling and staggering long enough for Tony to spot where the knife fell. Ah. There it was. He rushed to grab it. He almost had it within his grasp, but the instant he bent down to pick it up, a hand wrapped around his neck, choking him from behind.

Denied the most primal need to draw breath, Tony grabbed the hand around his neck with both of his and elbowed his assailant with a strength he didn’t know he was capable of mustering. Plates, glasses, and vases went crashing all around them as they struggled. The dogs were barking furiously. They couldn’t do much other than scratch Obi’s legs or jump up and down to draw his attention away from choking Tony. He made use of the distraction to bang his head back into his assailant’s face, buying him enough time to tell the dogs to run away and not get involved in the fight. Obi returned with a vengeance, choking him and practically crushing his windpipe with both hands this time. Dummy—the absolute dumbass that he was—came running to his rescue. He had something in his mouth. Something shiny. What was it? A knife! That crazy son of a bitch found it. 

Tony punched Obi in the nuts to escape his clutches long enough to seize the knife from Dummy. He turned around and stabbed him. The knife plunging in easier than he expected before warm blood came oozing over his hand. Damn it. This is why he preferred guns and even swords. This was too up close and personal than he preferred. Obi’s hands were no longer wrapped around his throat, but gripping his stab wound to stop the bleeding, once Tony pulled the knife out and backed away from him.

Tony rushed to grab the dogs.

Obi still stood there with a hand clapped upon his wound and eyes fixed upon Tony. Now, he was truly terrified. Even though he was armed and young, and his foe, injured and old, there was something feral about him at this moment. Tony picked up the dogs and made a run for it.

As he made his way upstairs, he blew out all the candles. The last one flickered underneath his breath before it was gutted, but alas, the house plunged into darkness. He knew this house like the back of his hand. Obi didn’t. Tony heard Obi chasing after him, almost reaching after him, groping for him, but stumbling and falling over every single hurdle along the way.

Tony skidded into the hallway lined with antique armors. They were terrifying in pale moonlight from the enormous window at the end of the hallway. This was his house. These were his armors. Yet, their presence filled his heart with dread. 

He left the dogs in Harley’s room and locked the door behind him. This wing must be protected. Here, his ward slept, completely unaware of tonight’s horrors. Good lord. What was he going to do? He could hear Obi’s thudding footsteps, and his groans and moans, as he slowly dragged his stabbed and spiteful form upstairs. In his hyperawareness, he could also hear people shouting and hands slapping upon doors in the other wings. The barks of the dogs joined in the cacophony. Further down the hallway, a high pitched scream of a frightened baby, awoken from sleep, burst out from the nursery. Rage replaced his fear. He must protect his family.

He was resolute, calm, and composed in planning his attack. His armor was downstairs and his sword in his room. Well, he had a knife. He scrambled to search for something in his surroundings that could be wielded as a weapon, when the moonbeam struggling against the clouds, shone feebly upon rusty and dusty old armor standing over him. He instinctively backed away from it imposing form. That’s when the realization hit him. He could use this. He was surrounded by armors. He might not have any troops or mercenaries like his enemies but this could be his iron legion.

With that resolve, he moved them to pose as armored knights guarding the hallway to scare, overwhelm, and distract Obi when he makes his way up here. Sadly, he wasn’t the only one with a surprise up his sleeve. As he finished arranging the armors, the main door banged open, and an actual army banged came barging in.

“Lord Hammer sent us to rescue the others.”

“Forget the others,” Obi ordered. “That way. Go search the wine cellar. There must be a passage in there leading to the pirates’ hideout. Quick. I heard they are about to set sail. Capture them and seize all stolen merchandise.”

No. Oh god, no. Steve would be waiting for him on the beach, and instead of him, he would be met with a Hammer’s mercenaries. And he could not go to his beloved, since he was stuck here fighting a battle which was his and his alone. He prayed the ship would set sail and its captain along with it. They could always find their way back to each other late when the dust settles and all of this was dealt with, and he really hoped his stubborn lover understood that as well. They were so close…so close to their happy ending. In his mind’s eye, he could almost see the coast of Ireland, draped in sea mist and spray of the waves crashing upon the cliffs, and the soft glow of a lighthouse guiding him to it. Somewhere there was a charming little cottage he had never seen before but had already made it his home. Then, the darkness gathered around it and the wind rustling in his ears carried him back to reality, where he hid behind his legion of armors, waiting for Obi.

When he finally made his way up here, he fell with a loud thud, and scampered back upon the floor in fear of the army of armors that confronted him in the dark. The inhuman scream he let out, put a triumphant smile on Tony’s face.

“Tony, Tony, Tony,” Obi sighed when he gathered his wits at last, “Always playing immature games with your silly little inventions.”

“Oh yeah…then why is your creepy opportunistic ass so obsessed with me and my work?” Tony asked, moving in the darkness between the armors to taunt him, “And why the hell are you still in my house? Constantly lurking around like a rat. Impossible to throw out.”

“I refuse to play this game. I refuse to come that way,” Obi declared, sticking his nose up in pride. Great. That is precisely what he wanted…for that rat bastard to stay away from his children. Tony plucked a gauntlet from one of the armors and flung it to the one beside Obi.

Obi turned, instantly prepared to fight. That’s when Tony ran towards him—knife in hand—to finish this once and for all. Obi retrieved the spear wielded by the hollow armor that gave him a fright. He held it out to impale Tony. Time slowed down to a snail’s pace but his mind couldn’t calculate how he could fight a spear with a mere knife. Tony held a hand up instinctively in his defense. That’s when the unimaginable happened.

A jet stream of blue flame shot out of his hand.

His gaze fell to the stone cold blue scar etched into his chest, which glowed in the same hue, and when he looked up, Obi flew back before being yeeted out of the smashing window at the end of the hallway. Tony rushed to the hole in the wall. Obi lay dead on the gravel outside the house with his limbs contorted like a puppet’s and a burning hole in his chest. What the hell? Tony looked from the corpse to his hands. How?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Dodo, JF44, and Crimsonash330 for your lovely comments. Guys, please leave your reactions and feedback in the comment section as well. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries and directly impacts my speed and quality of writing. So help me out here :)
> 
> I'm [winelover1989](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/635070078230102016/winelover1989-winelover1989-winelover1989) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	36. His Worst Nightmare

Tony fell to his knees in the shock and exhaustion of the fight that came to such a strange end. The baby’s crying still rang in his ear until she got tired and went back to sleep. He still sat there on the floor unable to move. He was too weary to care for anything. His mind desperately wished to succumb to sleep right there on the floor with his head buried in his hands. Yet, there was a nagging feeling at the back of his head that wished to analyze, obsess, and hyper fixate on what just happened. How on earth did he just throw Obi out the window and leave a sizzling hole in his corpse?

From some dark abyss in his mind, the words came back to haunt him. ‘The elixir will give you what you need to keep your promise…. This will provide you with all that you need to defeat Hydra…. What if the bleeding wound is cauterized with fire and properly sealed off after hacking off a head…. We will deal with Hydra together.’ Were they said only earlier this night? It felt like something from another life. Was it his idea to fight the beast with fire, and Steve’s insistence on beating it together, the reason he gained this firepower? Steve!

Oh my god. How could he allow battle fatigue to make him forget about the horde of Hammer’s henchmen who descended into his wine cellar to capture Steve? God. His worst nightmare finally came to fruition. All this time he had been warning and begging his beloved to leave out of fear of something precisely like this. And would anyone listen to him? No. _You’re paranoid, Tony. You’re getting worked up for no reason. Soldiers and mercenaries and planned manhunts are no match for a pirate crew sharing one brain cell, which right now, was probably in possession of Jarvis, who lay half-dead in the salon downstairs._ Damn them all. If no one heeded his advice, then he would go down there and fight an entire army himself, but come hell or high water, Steve would safely set sail for Ireland. Tony would see to that.

The sound of footsteps pulled him from his reverie. He turned to find Rhodey, walking up to him with a slow anxious pace with which one approaches a wounded animal. “Tony, ah, what happened here?” he asked before sneaking a peek out the broken window. “That’s Obi. He’s dead.”

“How perceptive of you,” Tony quipped, springing up to his feet to go find his sword and armor. “What are you doing out here by the way? Aren’t you supposed to be tied up and locked in some room?”

“I told them to lock me up in my own room,” Rhodey replied as he followed Tony to the master bedroom. “I keep a knife there and I know how to pick a lock. Though, I was just planning on sleeping comfortably after acquiring the means to my freedom.”

“You should have,” Tony said, grabbing the twin sword Steve gave him when he broke up his set in favor of the shield he had made for him.

“Tony, what the hell is going on?” Rhodey asked, stepping in his way. “I rushed downstairs when I heard all the smashing and screaming. When I got there, there was no one there but the butler shut up in the salon, disinfecting a needle to stitch up his own knife wound.”

“Is he all right?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, I patched him up,” Rhodey replied. “He said Obi stabbed him and that you’re in danger and then I heard the window smash. Tony, what the hell is going on?” He grabbed his shoulders, along with his undivided attention. “Would you please answer me?”

“Obi attacked me. I attacked him back. He died. The end,” Tony snapped before storming away to don his armor for the battle. “I’m sorry, Rhodey, but there is simply no time to talk. Hammer’s men are attacking the pirates’ hideout as we speak and I must go hold them off so that the ship can set sail without anyone getting captured.”

“What? No,” Rhodey yelled, grasping his hand to stop him. “Are you crazy? You can’t go fight trained mercenaries alone. And for what? Let the troops and pirates fight it out. What’s it to you? You’ve done more than enough for them.”

Tony freed himself from his grasp with a disgruntled grunt. “What’s it to me? I love him. I’m in love with that stupid stubborn captain of theirs, okay, and I’ll have him safely return home even if it’s the last thing I do. Go ahead,” he challenged. “You can say what you really think about it.”

“Tony,” Rhodey sighed with a chastising shake of his head. “You’re not going out there alone.”

“You can’t stop—”

“I’m coming with you,” Rhodey declared, walking past him to select weapons and armor from the vast array of them set out in the hallway.

“You don’t have to,” Tony assured him.

“I know,” Rhodey said. “But I’m not letting your amateur aristocratic ass fight a bunch of trained mercenaries alone.”

If time was on his side, Tony would argue it, but it wasn’t, and he had to hurry. “Meet me downstairs as soon as you’re done suiting up.” With that, he rushed to the main hall, where he had left his armor and put it on as fast as physically possible.

Rhodey came running after him when he was halfway down the hall leading to the cellar. Clad in armor, they barged into the ransacked room with empty racks broken and tossed around. The heavy rack concealing the secret door was tossed aside as well. And the door was flung wide open.

Tony rushed down the stone stairs cut into the cliff as slow and clumsy and ungainly as he could in a heavy suit of armor. “Over here,” Rhodey whispered. He turned. Rhodey had flung the rope from the makeshift railing of this stairway down for them to slide down much faster in all this heavy gear.

“So what’s our play?” Tony asked as he slid down first.

“We should take the high ground, so let’s put the biggest gun there,” Rhodey said, pointing down to a wide step not far from the beach with a boulder to hide behind.

“Got it,” Tony nodded. “What about you?”

“I meant me,” Rhodey replied, brandishing the gun he had probably dug out of the master bedroom while gathering arms and ammunition.

“You might have a big gun but you are not the big gun,” Tony protested.

“Don’t be jealous, Tony,” Rhodey teased as he swung the rope, jumped, and made a heroic landing upon his chosen spot.

“All right then, you have my back, and I’ll go draw them in,” Tony said as he made his way down to the beach, from where the echoes of swords clashing and battle cries came even though he could spot the ship sailing towards the mouth of the cave and making its escape. Who the hell was fighting the mercenaries when the crew had set sail? Ugh. Why did he even ask?

“Tony, no,” Rhodey yelled out from behind him. “Don’t go down there. That’s the worst place to be. It’s the kill box. That’s where you go to die.” Too late. A burst of rage consumed him the instant his feet touched the sand, and amidst the sea of mercenaries charging in for an attack, stood a lone man singlehandedly battling them all with just a sword and a shield.

“For the love of God, why didn’t you get on that fucking ship and leave?” Tony yelled as he drew his sword and ran headfirst into battle.

“I stayed behind to hold them off for the crew to have safe passage,” Steve replied, while singlehandedly facing on a small army.

“How could they just abandon you?” Tony grumbled, unleashing his wrath upon the first man who came at him. Rhodey did his best to ward off the other with the little ammunition he had on him. But he could practically feel Rhodey’s disapproving glare burning a hole in his back, something he could fully understand given his current predicament with Steve, who had to be the only person dumber and more reckless than him. God. Rhodey might be the only person with a functioning brain in this fight.

“It was my call to put them all in harm’s way by delaying their departure,” Steve said, twirling around like a graceful ballerina to escape the human fortification he was trapped in until now.

“Because of me,” Tony let out a suffering sigh.

“This was my choice to stay back and protect my crew,” Steve said, running full speed towards him, and fighting off anyone who got in his way. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh you’ll be sorry all right,” Tony said, ducking to evade a mercenary, trying to come at him with a sneak attack, and slicing a deep cut into his leg. “Once I’m done saving you from them, we are going to have words, and I promise you, this will all feel like summer breeze in comparison.”

“Not now, Tony,” Steve had the audacity to chastise him.

They battled the mercenaries only for a few minutes but it felt like a laborious lifetime, which he could push through only because he knew that in the distance Rhodey had their back with his excellent aim, and he would let no overpower either of them. That is until the gunshots stopped.

“I’m out of ammo. Tones, on your six,” Rhodey yelled out to warn him of the approaching attacker.

Tony found himself surrounded, and when he checked up on Steve, he was greeted by a similar sight. Well, it was time for extreme measures. He didn’t fully understand it and he wasn’t sure he could do it again but he had to give it a shot.

“Rhodey, get down,” Tony signaled when he saw his friend jump off the stairs and rush into battle with a sword in hand. He turned to Steve. “Shield up and duck.”

They both complied.

Tony tossed away both his gauntlets. With outstretched hands, he spun around in a circle and begged his body to repeat the miracle it performed to take out Obi. He could really use it, now that they were surrounded and outnumbered. Please. Oh God, please. He could almost see the grim reaper when the mercenaries charged in at him from all sides. That’s when it happened. Two shots of blue beam sliced clean through them all.

Rhodey and Steve watched the corpses fall in shock and awe. Though, Steve being Steve, instantly recovered from it and ordered him to shoot at his shield. He was apprehensive at first. Could these magical beams cut through metal? He shot at one of the fallen men’s sword to make sure. When it reflected off the surface and hit a rock in the distance, only then did he aim both his hands at Cap’s shield, and witnessed the beauty of Steve’s strategic mind as his lover moved his shield to wield the second-hand magic like a weapon he had lifelong training in.

“Next time you should lead with that,” Rhodey said when Tony ran out of this inexplicable magic mojo and the troops scattered to take cover behind the rocks.

“It’s way too fickle and new for me to summon, let alone control,” Tony replied.

“What was that?” Steve asked.

“Courtesy of the sparkly deep sea magic juice,” Tony shrugged.

At that moment, he felt like they won, and relished in the triumph, but like all good things, his momentary relief came to an end when he spotted a man who swam off to the sea instead of taking refuge behind the rocks on the beach. The mercenary called out for help. And it wasn’t the scream of a desperate man screaming into the abyss. One of the many boats patrolling the coast, drifted past the mouth of the cave, and if it wasn’t for this man’s signal, they might have paddled past the cliff without ever noticing the discreet cave, but alas, they did, and that’s when one after the other several boats were ushered in. There was nowhere to run. Mercenaries were positioned behind the rocks and the boats were fast approaching from the sea. The three of them, in their hubris, were trapped on the spit of sand in between. Tony raised a hand to the boats and begged his body to blast them. Nothing. 

“Huddle up,” Steve ordered, and the three of them took their positions, standing back to back on the beach with soldiers surrounding them on all sides.

Tony could not see a way out of this.

And what ensued was an absolute bloodbath.

He lost his senses in the sheer violence and battle high of it all. Only the sight of Steve being knocked out and dragged towards one of the boats served as a sobering sensation. No. No, no, no. In his panic, he abandoned his post from where he fought back to back with Rhodey and ran to go save Steve. Please. God damn it. He could really use some firepower right about now. The magic complied. But oh, what a cruel joke it played on him.

This time the blue flame burned from the bottom of his feet, flinging away the metal boot of his armor, shooting him high up in the air, and hurling him straight into the face of the cliff. If his helmet didn’t have any cushioning, he would have banged up his head against the stone. Thankfully, he had learned a thing or two from being tossed around during the last armored fight. He hovered helplessly in the air, unable to gain even a semblance of control over his body, while impotently witnessing the troops disarm and grab Rhodey and load up an unconscious Steve into the boat. All he ever dreamed of in life was the ability to fly like a free bird. He let out a laugh as tears trickled down his cheek. He was a man who had everything and nothing for he had tasted it all—power, wealth, fame, charm, and even the miracle of flight—and what good was any of it now that he kicked and screamed like a caged bird, unable to save his friend and his lover from enemy soldiers stealing away with them. They didn’t even bother with him. A few stones came flinging his way. But other than that, they all rushed away in fear of the flying freak.

When his body grew far too fatigued, and melancholy gathered like a thick blanket upon the flames of his battle high and adrenaline rush, he somehow dropped onto the soft sand of the beach. “Steve,” he screamed at the boats drifting out the cave. He couldn’t allow them to escape. Tony ran into the water like a madman, struggling against the waves crashing upon his armor. He could…he could swim out there and still win this. He could turn this around. He could fight them all and steal away with both the men. He had two arms. Surely, he could carry them both. Tony let out an anguished scream. For he understood how stupid and futile this ‘ _plan’_ was, but what choice did he have? He couldn’t back down. No. He refused to give up.

As he waded through the water, which came up to his chest now, his breath began to betray him. Tony gasped for air. No, no, no. He willed his legs to keep moving forward. But he couldn’t. He simply couldn’t. He felt a prisoner in his own body, which simply refused to obey him, defying his mind like a powerless figurehead who had no say in something as simple as drawing breath. Or his perception of reality. The instant he realized what might have brought upon his sudden attack of breathlessness, and became aware of his armored form submerged into the sea, he was dragged into a waking nightmare of the memory of drowning in the sea and being trapped underneath the weight of the armor. Stop. He wasn’t there anymore. He wasn’t drowning. And yet, the nightmare hijacked all his senses to the point that his body was convinced he was drowning and refused to breathe in the air that was all around him.

When the nightmare subsided and he found his way back to the beach, he threw away his helmet, fell to his knees, and inhaled a deep satisfying breath. That felt good. Liberating. But when he looked up, he realized there was nothing to rejoice. He had merely traded one nightmare for another as the boats were gone. Rhodey was gone. Steve was captured by those who planned to hang him today. Tony was so close to having everything, and they stole his greatest treasure from right under his nose, and his mind and body were too powerless and paralyzed to do anything about it. Well, now he understood the hatred that burned in Obi and Killian’s hearts.

There was a cold clarity in the air that left him shivering. The sand felt cold underneath his bare hands and feet and a rogue little wave slapped him in the face to break him out of his trance. Then out of the sea, like a ball of fire, the sun came hard and red. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Dodo, Wolfens, and aylovebucky for your lovely comments.
> 
> Guys, please leave your reactions and feedback in the comment section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries and directly impacts my speed and quality of writing. So help me out here :)
> 
> I'm [winelover1989](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/635510030260731904/winelover1989-winelover1989-winelover1989) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	37. Prison Break

Tony could not afford to waste time dwelling upon the defeat and desolation of witnessing Steve being dragged away to the gallows. He picked up his lover’s sword and shield from the wreckage of the battle, dusted the sand off it, and clutched the shield as a child holds onto a stuffed animal out of fear of ghosts and monsters and all sorts of imaginary problems. He was no longer a child. And his worst fear was very much a real crisis looming over his head now.

As Tony dragged his armored form up the stairs, he began to let go of the melancholy that clung to him. No. It wasn’t over until the hanging, so there was still time to formulate a rescue plan. For his first order of business, he barged into the salon to check up on his injured butler.

“Jarvis, wake up.” Tony shook the unconscious man, nursing the stab wound Obi bestowed upon him and Rhodey patched up last night. “They took them. Hammer’s mercenaries. They attacked the hideout on Obi’s orders. The ship successfully set sail with the crew, but Steve remained to fight them off the mercenaries because he’s a stubborn self-sacrificial idiot, and now they took him. Rhodey too. He tagged along to help me fight them.”

“Sir…could you please slow down?” Jarvis groaned as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “I need a moment here.”

“We don’t have the luxury of time, Jarvis,” Tony urged him to wake up. “They plan on hanging him from the tallest tree in Hammer’s park today. You must have spies in Hammer’s service. I know you do. Steve mentioned he has spies among the servants of all great households in the neighborhood. Just tell me how to get in touch with them to find out where they are holding Steve and Rhodey.”

“There’s the little issue of me declaring my allegiance to the pirates last night,” Jarvis said. “I’m afraid I can no longer show face around the neighborhood. You must run the necessary errands on your own.”

“Just tell me what to do,” Tony begged.

“Very well, write down a note for me,” Jarvis said, wincing and groaning as he dragged his wounded form into a sitting position. “ _We’re out of Irish Whisky. I’m placing a large order for it. Do you have any in your cellar? Or would you like me to order some for your household as well_?”

“We don’t need whiskey,” Tony sighed. “We need to track down Steve.”

“Captain Rogers is the Irish Whiskey,” Jarvis clarified. “Just jot that down and make at least ten copies of the note.”

“What now?” Tony asked when he was done.

“Now go free all the servants tied up in the game larder, and hand these to the scullery maid,” Jarvis instructed, all lordly and taking great pleasure in their little reversal of roles. “She’ll know what to do.”

Tony practically ran out of the room with the notes.

“Sir,” Jarvis called out. “The armor.”

Tony raised a brow.

“You’re still wearing it,” Jarvis pointed out. “Please take it off before you set all the prisoners free. Servants and guests,” he added as if Tony would simply forget about the guests. Well, if he was being entirely honest, it completely slipped his mind that all his guests were still under his roof. Ugh. More socializing. This early in the day. That too without coffee. “And try to look like a distressed and concerned fellow prisoner and come up with a story for your escape.” He’ll just use Rhodey’s, he decided, when he plucked away the last of his armor.

“Anything else, my lord,” Tony asked.

“No, you may leave now,” Jarvis said with a regal wave of a hand to mimic how he was usually dismissed while working.

It was easier to let go of his fears and anxieties now that Jarvis had paved the next few steps of the dark and perilous path ahead of him. He freed all the servants, handed the notes to the scullery maid with a wink and a whisper of Jarvis still being present in the house. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. Did the poor girl fancy him? Goodness. He wouldn’t have taken Jarvis for a ladies’ man…to enlist a smitten girl as a spy for him. Even he wouldn’t do that for all his philandering. The scullery maid set out on her mission to get the notes delivered to all the great houses in the neighborhood, whose owners were most motivated to capture the pirate captain and might have him locked up in their basement. Tony was under the impression that she alone was faithful to the butler and would deliver the notes on her own. He couldn’t be more wrong. There were many still loyal to Jarvis. The scullery maid discreetly handed the notes to three men, who ran to the stables to fetch a horse and be on their way.

Next, he freed all his guests. That turned out to be far more cumbersome and taxing for he was obligated to soothe and console them and listen to a hundred different versions of his birthday party’s dreadful end. Never mind he was there as well. Never mind they all went through the same ordeal. No. All these pompous aristocrats simply must exaggerate the tales of their once in a lifetime suffering and oppression to one-up each other in their victimhood, the same way they did with their jewels, finery, and the grandness of their manor houses. It was unbearable.

In the end, he was forced to fight fire with fire by pretending to faint from the shock and excitement of being ill-used and locked up by pirates. That served as the perfect excuse for him to retire to his wing. He didn’t even have to share the lie of his heroic escape from captivity. Tony checked up on his kids and dogs, discarded his fine attire from last night, and dug out the clothes he had donned only once before—when he set out on his first mission as a pirate—for they must serve him once again in his mission to save his beloved.

He emerged from his rooms only when all his guests had left and the men who set out to deliver the notes had returned. Tony rushed downstairs. He couldn’t wait to find out if they received any cryptic message in return that could point him to Steve’s whereabouts. Pepper and Happy ambushed him on his way.

“How are you feeling now?” Happy asked in a shaky voice. “Better or are you still reeling from the shock of it all?”

“Because we have more shocking news for you,” Pepper said matter-of-factly. “Are you in the right frame of mind to receive it?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine I guess,” Tony replied absentmindedly. When he stopped peering over their shoulders to catch a glimpse of his messengers, he finally noticed Happy’s trembling lips, red face, and glassy eyes. “Why are you crying?”

“Obi’s dead,” Happy cried. “We found him dead outside with the most unnatural hole carved into his poor chest. He must have fought those pirates all alone in the darkness, and sacrificed himself, to set Hammer and a few others free last night.” Tears rolled down his cheeks in a genuine display of grief. Tony simply stood there staring annoyed with Happy’s big heart for the very first time. Why did he have to always believe the best in people?

“Oh, how very sad of him to just drop dead like that,” Tony said, not even bothering with the pretense of grief.

“And there are more bodies scattered upon this beach underneath your wine cellar,” Pepper reported, expecting far more surprise and distress from him than she received, and the absence of it, didn’t sit quite right with her. Tony couldn’t help it either. He was too tired to put on a mask and a show for them. “The pirates were using it as a hideout. They took everything from your wine cellar. I did an inventory of the house, and thankfully, nothing else is missing. But at some point during the night, Hammer escaped; sent his men; then, they all battled it out with the pirates down there.”

Tony couldn’t help but ask, “Do you know where they are keeping the ones they captured?”

Pepper raised a brow. “How do you know they captured someone? I never mentioned anything of the sort.”

“I reckoned they must have captured someone if their manhunt ended up being somewhat successful,” Tony shrugged it off with an over the top air of casualness that she did not buy at all.

“I will never drink again,” Happy said, still crying over Obi. Why?

Tony didn’t feel a shred of guilt over him, even though he was racked with it over the memory of all those mercenaries he sliced through. If anything, he regretted not making that creepy bastard suffer more. God, he deserved so much worse than what he got.

“If I wasn’t drunk out of my mind, I might have been able to fight off those pirates when they took you away at sword point and rounded us all up,” Happy said. “It was so shameful. I simply passed out the instant they locked me up in my room. Obi and the others who escaped were trapped in the room opposite ours. They fought a pirate right outside our door to break free.” It was Jarvis’s stabbing that filled Happy with shame over not doing enough to live up to that damned Obi’s heroics. Ugh. It was so damn frustrating. No. No, it was okay. He knew too much and Happy too little and there was no reason to begrudge him for it. “Pepper was so worried. She kept trying to wake me up but I was too out of it to have any awareness of the goings-on of last night.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Tony said, putting an arm over his shoulder to console him. “Look what happened to Obi for prowling the hallways at night and fighting pirates. You’re better off blacked out but alive.”

Pepper cleared her throat before pulling up a far too familiar sealed envelope. “Someone slipped this under our door before that fight broke out.” It was the letter he had written to them when he expected to sail off into the sunset with his beloved. Damn it. That letter was probably what led Jarvis to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and stabbed by that bastard. He didn’t mean to think ill of the dead. But if anyone deserved it, it was Obi.

“Did you read it?” Tony asked.

“No,” Pepper replied.

“You should,” Tony said matter-of-factly. Even though he was here and not on the ship, getting married at sea and moving to his new home in Ireland, this letter would make the next part of his plan way easier. He needed his estate managers onboard with it. But he simply did not have the time or the energy to explain everything. Especially now, when he was dying to find out what news the riders had brought back, and he could see the scullery maid scurry into the salon to report it to Jarvis. “You do that. Both of you. Just read the letter and you’ll understand everything. I must attend to an urgent matter first.”

Tony abandoned their company and rushed to the salon. “Where are they keeping him?” he demanded the instant he barged into the room.

The scullery maid gave a little curtsy and left, handing the butler the burden of the bearer of bad news.

“At Lord Killian’s mansion,” Jarvis said in a solemn voice.

Tony stared at him, dazed, as though he had been struck. “Why?” Tony asked, suddenly alarmed considering how Killian was the most bloodthirsty and vengeful of all the nobles who organized the manhunt. He would have preferred if Steve was a prisoner on Hammer’s estate. They planned on hanging him there anyway and a pompous jailer seemed better than a cruel one.

“I’ve heard he has the most secure dungeon,” Jarvis replied after putting a lot of thought into it, “And probably because it’s farthest from the sea from where a pirate attack could be mounted to break him out.”

“Hmm,” Tony tried to channel Steve’s strategic mind. “So they are prepared to cut off a retreating force if a pirate ship were to dock somewhere on the shore, and its crew marches deep inland to steal away with their prisoner. Good thing we neither have a ship nor a need to return to the sea.”

“Why?” Jarvis asked. “Aren’t you planning on returning here once you succeed in whatever plan you’re hatching?”

“What’s the point in returning here? Steve, Rhodey, and you can’t risk staying here and I’m so done with this place,” Tony declared. “No. We’ll just attack, grab, and leave…that is if you’re up for it.”

“For you sir, always,” Jarvis said with a brave smile despite his condition.

“It’ll be a discreet mission with just the two of us,” Tony said, “And we’ll ride off farther inland on horseback instead of returning here or anywhere close to the sea.”

“Farther inland where,” Jarvis asked.

“Tony, what is the meaning of this,” Pepper yelled, barging into the room, brandishing his letter. “Are you out of your mind? You love him? Love. Let me get this straight—”

“Nothing straight about it, Pep,” Tony teased.

Pepper raised a hand to shut him up. “You love the criminal who robbed us all last night and you planned on running away with the pirates like some wide-eyed stable boy with dreams of adventure?”

“I don’t know what you’re so angry about, he didn’t even rob _you_ ,” Tony pointed out.

“Is that what was happening in here last night when we all thought he was torturing you for information?” Happy asked as if he had just pieced it together.

Tony simply wiggled his brows suggestively.

“How does that even work?” Pepper asked, genuinely confused and flustered.

“Lots and lots of olive oil,” Tony replied.

“You know what, never mind,” Pepper said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“I thought I drank too much and was seeing things,” Happy said, dumbstruck and blinking owlishly.

“ _I_ thought he had molested you,” Pepper said, awkward and shy and as red as a tomato. “God, I can’t believe you joined a pirate crew the instant you were left unsupervised.”

“Wait, he’s the man you told me you were planning on marrying?” Happy asked, still unspooling the web he was caught in like a helpless little bug.

“Marry,” Pepper asked with eyes as big as saucers. “That is not even possible.”

“Under pirate law it is,” Tony said, plucking out the ring hanging by a chain around his neck. He was done hiding it. There was no need to do so anymore. He yanked the chain off, removed the ring from it, and put it on his finger. He had adjusted it for size during his week hiding in the workshop, but until now, he was too afraid to wear it out of fear of any questions that might arise about how he acquired a royal navy ring. “Yes, this is his, and he _robbed_ me of the one I promised him to seal our commitment to one another.”

“Does he treat you right?” Happy asked.

Tony nodded, almost tearing up at the memory of all that they had.

“Well, I can understand,” Happy said, accepting, yet baffled by the madness of it all. “You did always have a weakness for beautiful blondes with big bosoms, and technically speaking, he does fit the bill in his own manly way.”

“Captain Rogers would love to hear that,” Jarvis chimed in with a hearty laugh.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Pepper demanded. “I was under the impression that most of the crew left, except for the ones captured. Why do you have this spy stashed here, out in the open, where anyone could walk in at any moment?”

“Pepper, I understand that you have many questions and nothing makes sense right now,” Tony assured her as he herded her into a chair. “We will have a long conversation about all of this when the dust settles, but right now, time is of the essence. Don’t ask me how, why, or what. Right now, I just need you two to be the estate managers of an eccentric baron, no questions asked, so I can do what I have to do to save Steve and Rhodey.”

“They have Rhodey?” Pepper asked, finally sharing his concern. Now, he had her full attention. She was all business and onboard with the damage control.

Tony nodded. “Here’s what I need from you two. Pack your things. Most of my stuff is already packed but feel free to add anything you think I would need from here if I were to leave England.” He stopped her from interrupting him. “Uh, uh, uh, remember, no questions asked. Just pack whatever you see fit for me and the kids, and leave as soon as possible with my ward, the baby, the dogs, and all the luggage.”

“Hammer expects everyone at the hanging this afternoon,” Happy interjected.

“There won’t be a hanging,” Tony practically growled. “And anyway, it would make complete sense for you to want to leave this place at once after the events of last night.”

“What about Obi?” Happy asked.

“What about him,” Tony shot back. “Just have a discreet funeral to have his body burned, along with the mercenaries lying dead on the beach downstairs. Don’t… don’t, uh, bury them okay? Just burn them.” He didn’t wish for there to be skeletons that bore the secret of his sorcery with the unnatural deadly blows he killed them with. Not to mention, no one knew it was him who did it. “Just burn them down on the beach.”

“What’ll you do here, all alone, once we leave?” Pepper asked.

“Nothing,” Tony replied as he grabbed his sword, which he had left here with Jarvis for safekeeping, and chopped off his luscious long locks. His hair was short now. He smeared some dirt and ash from the fireplace onto his face to make himself practically unrecognizable as Tony Stark, the rich and famous Baron and left him looking more like a common laboring man. The cheap clothes, he acquired for his first mission as a pirate, completed his transformation for the last phase of his plan. Maybe he could also take the helmet of his armor for safe measure. “I will not be returning to this cursed place. Ever. When you’re done here, dismiss all the servants, and have it shut up. No matter what happens today, go ahead with selling the house and investing the money in my new business venture as we decided. And Happy”—he shot him a look to remind him of the promise he once made—“take care of my children and the kids in my absence.”

“I will, Tony,” Happy promised, “I will.”

“And Pepper,” Tony said, “I need another thing from you.”

“Tony, there’s only so much I can I do in one day,” Pepper said, furiously scribbling notes at the back of his letter.

“Not today,” Tony assured her, “But once you get to London, please procure a boat for me. Nothing too big. Not a small fishing boat either. Get me a sailboat with enough room to load up everything you’ll be packing for me today and for a family to travel discreetly.”

“Why not just book passage on a proper ship?” Happy asked.

“No,” Tony shot back. “I want no record of the voyage anywhere.”

“Sir, shall I go ready the horses?” Jarvis asked, getting on his feet.

Tony nodded. “Can I trust you two to hold the fort here?” he asked his estate managers, and with all of their work cut out for the dastardly day ahead of them, the four of them bid each other goodbye and parted ways. Upstairs, Christine stood holding the baby, and Harley standing beside her, clutching her skirt. They were more than confused by his disguise. He simply flashed his most disarming smile and waved them goodbye, hoping neither of them would put two and two together if they ever receive news of what was about to unfold this afternoon.

Without a word of explanation, he rushed to his workshop to pick up all the little experimental contraptions he had built to play around with his most eccentric ideas for weapons. Some of these were Harley’s wicked suggestions. That boy had one hell of an imagination when it came to destruction. As a parental figure, Tony was burdened with telling him off and helping him find more constructive outlets for his creativity, but as a former weapons’ manufacturer and an engineer, he couldn’t help but bring a few of them to life when he had nothing else to keep his hands busy. Well, it was finally their time to shine.

The apothecary’s workstation stood in a corner of their shared Bluebeard’s chamber practically begging for his attention. Some of the vials contained their recreation of their new and improved version of the Greek fire he wielded while setting the weapons’ warehouse ablaze during his first and only pirate mission. Tony grabbed it. It could come in handy. And he didn’t miss the opportunity to mess around with some of those potions and chemicals he had been dying to turn into rustic homemade dirty bombs.

Once he had his little bag full of crazy contraptions, he went to find if Jarvis had picked out and readied his finest horses. Tony helped put a saddle over Mark II. “Don’t fail me, boy,” Tony whispered, caressing its mane of his loyal steed, which also happened to be the fastest and most faithful.

They set out with four horses, two to ride, and two for the men they were on a mission to free. Tony pressed on with urgency, and left Jarvis to tend to the three horses in the woods, not far from Killian’s estate, since the butler was injured and had a hard time riding a horse. He wasn’t cruel enough to ask him to risk more. And besides, he needed to be agile, nimble, and move like a shadow to accomplish what he came here for, which wouldn’t be all that easy with a man suffering from a stab wound and blood loss.

Tony tied his horse to a tree by one of a boundary wall, climbed a mandarin tree, and pulled out a looking glass to get a lay of the land. Damn it. The mansion was heavily guarded. Two. Three. And they had dogs. No. This wasn’t a great spot to break into the house. After a bit of surveillance, patterns began to emerge in how the guards made their rounds, and better yet, he stumbled upon a rare gem of a blind spot in their security. Tony didn’t waste a moment before backing away and ran full speed towards the wall to use his momentum to scale it with dexterity he didn’t know he had in him at forty. He pumped his fist in the air. Still got it.

He ran across the lawn before anyone could spot him, and climbed the stairs leading to the veranda like a silent crouching cat, prepared to pounce on anyone in his path. And pounce he did. An imposing figure stood tall at the top of the stairs with its back facing him. He wouldn’t use up the best of his ammo on this one, so he picked out a weighted string to throw around his ankles and haul him in as sure and ruthless as his lover had taught him to pull fish out of the water while fishing. Stepping over his catch, he shot the second guard who turned to check up on his fallen comrade. Well, there goes his one bullet. And the guard wasn’t even dead but only injured and angry. The fallen one was untangling his feet and coming for him as well. Then, there was a third fast approaching. Tony covered his mouth and nose, and threw a dirty smoke bomb he had made from the apothecary’s stash straight at his fast approaching attacker, and slipped away, leaving the three of them unconscious in a cloud of gas behind him. Aha! That works. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Bruce’s face after hearing of this.

Tony paved his way through the men guarding the veranda with everything he had: dirty bombs, vials of Greek fire, which he discovered could be served as molotov cocktails, and all the experimental artillery he had brought along. It worked. Somehow it worked. Tony walked away from the parting smoke like a one man army on a mission to save Mr. Strategy with nothing but chaos and sheer chutzpah.

As soon as he sneaked into the house, he slithered through the labyrinth of hallways to evade anyone who might have followed him inside. He hid behind a statue to reload his gun and check Jarvis’s childish drawing. The dreadful doodle was supposed to be a map of the house. It took him a while to decipher it and make sense of where he was and which way he had to go to get to the cellar. He didn’t have many hurdles in his way, except for one of two guards, he hit in the head hard enough with the butt of his gun to knock them out.

Down in the dungeon, he found an empty open room with a hole in the wall. What the hell happened here? And behind a closed door, curses and knocks came as if a hammer was pounding into the door. A hammer… or an iron fist…. Could it be?

“Is it you?” Tony yelled out.

“Oh my god, is it really you?” Rhodey yelled back.

“Stay back,” Tony ordered before using one of his little bombs to blast through the door. Yes. It worked. He did it. He finally did it. Steve was saved, and now they could finally run away together, and oh my god, he could not wait to hold his lover in his arms again. Tony walked into the room with a big smile on his face. “Steve. Steve. Where are you? God damn it, answer me, Rogers.”

When the dust settled, he found only a solitary armored man crouching in a corner with a hand raised in defense of the debris the dirty bomb sent flying into the room.

“Um…where…where is he?” Tony asked, looking around feeling more lost than he had ever felt in his life. It made no sense. The intel was good. He broke in here. He got into the cellar. Then, why did he find only one of them?

Rhodey stood up, inhaled a sharp breath, and replied in a steely voice. “They took him, Tones. I didn’t hear everything, but I heard enough to know that he somehow summoned superhuman strength to punch his way out the stone wall. He almost got out too. But they got him before he could and shot him full of horse tranquilizers. I heard Killian say that he didn’t want to take any chances waiting for everyone to gather for the hanging.”

“I don’t,” Tony mumbled, shaking his head. “I don’t get it. What are you talking about? Where is Steve? Where did they take him? Did they move him to a more reinforced cell?”

“Tony, listen to me,” Rhodey said, rattling his shoulders to knock some sense into him. “They took him to be hanged.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Dodo, Cybis, Anthony, Lover_of_Loki1974, and Crimsonash330 your lovely comments.
> 
> Guys, please leave your reactions and feedback in the comment section down below. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries and directly impacts my speed and quality of writing. I want to get to the end with faster updates because some mean cliffhangers are coming up. So please help me out here :)
> 
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	38. These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: intimate partner violence, minor character death, and really mean things happen to Steve like the poor guy is barely hanging by a thread at this point

Tony stood there dazed and petrified by the bad news Rhodey had delivered. He was late. He was too late. His stomach sank into a gaping pit of despair, soon to swallow him whole, body and soul. They had dragged Steve to the gallows way before the hanging was scheduled and he had no idea what to do now. No, no, no. Tony paced around the dungeon too high on anxiety to function.

“It’s okay,” Rhodey offered a useless assurance that did nothing to calm the storms raging within him. “We can still get to him. What was your plan once you busted us out? How did you plan on getting us out of here?”

“There’s a…” Tony whispered, doing his best to gather his scattered wits. “My horse is tied by the mandarin tree not far from the main gate. Jarvis. Yeah. He’s here too. Hiding in the woods.”

“Did you get something to signal him?” Rhodey asked, practically begging him to get his shit together.

“Here,” Tony said, handing him the little flare gun Harley designed.

“A toy,” Rhodey asked, desperate, puzzled, and more than concerned for Tony’s mental state, which was honestly in shambles at the moment. Though, he wasn’t so far gone.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it looks like a toy, but it works okay. Just shoot it in the air. Fireworks will pop out and Jarvis would know your location. Come, let’s go,” he said, snapping out of his mini mental breakdown out of exasperation. What had his life turned into?

“Thought you’d never ask,” Rhodey said, his voice echoing behind the helmet of his armor.

“Why are you still in your armor? Didn’t those idiots think to disarm you before throwing you in a dungeon?” Tony asked when Rhodey took his hand and dragged him out of there.

“I told them I wear this armor because I’m a leper,” Rhodey shrugged. “They dropped their efforts to remove it that very instant, out of fear of catching leprosy, and avoided me like the plague ever since.”

“That’s a smart way to hide your identity,” Tony commended Rhodey.

“It wasn’t my identity I was scared of,” Rhodey said sounding truly terrified and desperate to get out of this place. “I can’t put into words how daunting it is for me to be stranded out here all alone in this crazy rich white backwoods neighborhood of yours.” He shuddered. The armor practically vibrated with him. “And being trapped in a dungeon? Let’s just say it brought back too many traumatic memories of my life before freedom.”

“Oh, _oh_ ,” Tony said, getting his shit together at last, for he wasn’t the only one having the worst day of his life. Rhodey didn’t have to help him fight those mercenaries. He still did. And the man had been through hell for it. Not to mention, Steve, who was still counting on him to save him from the gallows. No. He refused to break. He must remain strong from loved ones. “Platypus, I promise I will get you out of this hellhole and we are never coming back here and no one will touch a hair on your head.”

“You can’t possibly promise that last one, not amid all this madness,” Rhodey said, bringing his attention back to the labyrinth of hallways they ran through for their lives.

“Really,” Tony asked, pretending to be hurt quite melodramatically, “You don’t believe me even after witnessing my newfound firepower.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask, how did you do all that?” Rhodey asked, and he turned only for a moment when someone jumped him all of a sudden.

“Not so fast,” Killian declared, drawing a sword to challenge the unarmed man, who was still fully clad in protective gear…thank god. “So, while we were busy carting away that beast to the gallows, you decided to make a run for it, huh? And who might you be,” he asked, turning to Tony. “Are you one of my servants?”

“Yes, milord,” Tony said with a little bow to hide his smirk because damn his disguise really worked.

Killian eyed him head to toe with more than a touch of skepticism. “What happened? How did this armored leper manage to get out? And why is he dragging you out with him?”

“It’s a long story,” Tony said, doing his best to make his voice unrecognizable. As he launched into a roundabout nonsensical tale of being lured in while cleaning the cellar, he looked at Rhodey, and then gave a pointed look at the gauntleted hand Killian had grabbed and then jerked his head in the direction of the mandarin tree his horse was tied to behind the boundary wall. Come on, Honeybear. Don’t be so daft. Rhodey stiffened, as if in resistance to his idea. Though, he soon came to his senses after the death glare Tony shot his way, and carefully slipped his hand out of the gauntlet, which remained in Killian’s hand long after Rhodey had made a run for the boundary wall.

Killian noticed his absence only when he yanked at his prisoner, only to come face to face with the gauntlet. “Somebody stop him,” he yelled out for the guards, most of whom Tony had taken out, giving Rhodey the perfect window of opportunity to shoot the flare gun, climb the wall, and get on the horse. “You,” Killian said, turning to Tony like a threatening storm. “You did this. You’re with him. I don’t recall ever seeing you in this house and that bullshit story made absolutely no sense.”

He raised his sword.

Okay. Tony had kept his promise to Rhodey, and helped him escape, but what now? How was he going to get out? He backed away and slowly moved his hand to the sword sheathed upon his hip. He wasn’t discreet enough.

Killian’s gaze landed upon the hilt of the sword. His eyes suddenly lit up in recognition. “Is that… I remember… I recognize that cursed sword. It’s one of the pair that bloody pirate came dual wielding when he robbed me.” His sense, careful deliberation, and all traces of humanity were gone from his eyes all of a sudden. He was more monster than man all of a sudden. The bloodthirst and vengeful temperament, which he had only seen glimpses of or merely heard about from others, reared its ugly head, and this time, it was his blood the man thirsted for and his neck which was on the line.

Tony was quick to grab his sword to defend himself. But Killian still came swinging his sword at him like a madman. At that moment, Tony truly understood Steve’s mocking of his skills in fencing because it was one thing to fight with skill, rules, and precision, and completely another to fight a rage filled enemy who wants you dead and would stop at nothing to make that happen. Fighting Killian with a sword and skills was like… well it was like a mere knight going up against a fire breathing dragon. The worst of it wasn’t even the struggle. It was the fact that even when he was meeting his adversary blow for blow, putting up a good fight, and holding his own, Killian still managed to herd him deeper and deeper into the house with no exit in sight anymore. Ugh. How was he ever going to escape and get to Steve before he’s hanged?

That’s when she entered the room with a blood curdling ear piercing shriek.

“What is going on, Killian?” Maya asked, clutching her chest to soothe her frightened heart.

“Nothing that concerns you,” Killian said to his wife in the most disrespectful and dismissive tone. “This is between me and these filthy pirates who think they can just come into my house and do whatever they please: take my money, my finery, and even my prisoners. They have no respect for property. No respect for the law. I am burdened with the glorious purpose of finally putting the fear in god into their black hearts.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have much respect for that either,” Tony shrugged before leaping away from his attack. Only when he regained his footing—not far from where Maya stood shell shocked and frozen—did the idea struck him. He hid behind her. Then, raising a sword to her throat, he threatened, “Let me go or she dies. I get out your front door and she’ll live.” He moved backward and made his way out of the room with the woman in his clutches. “I swear, I will leave her behind, unharmed and well. Stand down,” he said in a low calming tone to get the bloodthirsty beast to back down. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Do as he says,” Maya urged her husband.

Tony was out the door and planning his escape when a cold terrifying laugh broke out. It was Killian. He was _laughing_? Um…why?

“Here’s where you’re wrong,” Killian scoffed. “You think me a sentimental fool. Really? You think she matters to me more than my wealth or my vengeance?” Without warning, he plunged his sword into his wife’s belly.

She stood there at the brink of death, disemboweled and bleeding profusely, yet grasping at the sword piercing her and refusing to let go of it, until she fell to her death upon her murderous husband.

Tony looked up to find several servants watch the scene unfold in horror. “You all saw what happened. It wasn’t me,” he said, addressing them with his hands up to prove his innocence. “Your master has gone mad.”

Before Killian could untangle himself from his wife’s corpse, draw his sword from her guts, or make his way through the sea of servants barging into the room to confirm the news of the tragedy, Tony slithered through and made a run for the exit.

“Get him,” Killian screamed. “What are you staring at me for? He’s getting away. Do your duty and seize the pirate before he escapes.”

One of the servants ended up in his path with a kitchen knife in hand. He looked from Tony, who was making a desperate run for the main door with a sword in hand, and Killian following after him with a bloody sword of his own, and then his gaze fell to the knife in his hand. “Honestly, I don’t even like working here. They are so weird,” he declared before dropping the knife and getting out of the way.

Tony was glad for that. And better yet, when he made it to the main door, Rhodey rode in to the rescue. He offered a hand to haul Tony onto the horse, and without stopping for a moment, turned them around with great expertise to get the hell out of there. He looked back. Killian was still chasing after them. Tony slapped his loyal steed, Mark II, in the rear and begged the beast to pick up the pace for them to be done with this madhouse. Thanks to the flare Rhodey had shot, Jarvis was awaiting their arrival out on the highway with the extra horses at hand, and Rhodey wasted no time before trading the chestnut steed for a beautiful grey stallion named Warmachine.

The two of them charged full speed towards Hammer’s estate. Jarvis, on the other hand, took the slow scenic route of the trails concealed in the thick forest coverage. It was best they not stick together. An angry adversary was hot on their heels and the might of a mob in the mood to persecute pirates awaited him at Hammer’s home.

“What’s the plan?” Rhodey asked, desperately trying to catch up with him.

“I don’t know,” Tony said, not even bothering to sit down now that they were charging headfirst into danger. “Attack. You don’t have to join me though,” he added since he was well aware this Hail Mary pass had little to no chance of success and a very high probability of him being hung alongside his lover by the tallest tree in Hammer’s park. There was no reason to take Rhodey down with him.

“Here, take this,” Rhodey said, tossing a loaded gun his way. One bullet. Let’s see what good that’ll do. “Don’t worry. I have another. And ammo. I’ll cover you from a distance while you break in to rescue Steve.”

Tony shot him a smile over his shoulder and rode off to go get his man. 

When Hammer’s estate came into sight, he was welcomed by his worst nightmare. We create our own demons. Who said that? What does that even mean? Doesn’t matter. The only thing that mattered in this godforsaken moment that came to a standstill and lasted a lifetime, was the fact that, for all the spies his cocky and stubborn lover had placed in every wealthy estate in the neighborhood to get inside information, there was only one who was invited into the inner circle and knew of all their plans and intentions—Tony. Yet, his warnings and fears were cast aside most frivolously. He was told time and time again about how his anxiety was unwarranted, how the crew had it all under control, and how Steve had a plan to ensure the worst never comes to pass. Even when the vision of his lover hanging by a tall tree haunted him every step of the way, he was assured this demon wasn’t real, and because it was not real, it held no power over them, and could neither hurt his lover nor break his heart. But the demon was real. It was created. And with every dismissal, it grew stronger and more powerful, and it waited…it waited to strike at the perfect moment when its existence could no longer be denied.

With his heart tearing asunder, Tony watched on, as far in the distance, Steve’s barely conscious tranquilized form stood upon a stool under that cursed tree with a noose around his neck. Tony spurred his horse to get there faster. But he was too far. And Hammer was too quick in his spectacle of kicking the stool supporting Steve.

His worst nightmare had come true. Tony’s heart tore into two as he watched the love of his life kick and flail and grab the tightening noose in a final act of desperation to break free. It was of no use. Nothing was of any use. Steve’s super strength. Tony’s efforts. None could stop the inevitable.

Steve was hanged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know _I know_ mean cliffhanger, quite literally for Steve, which is why I'm aiming to write the next chapter super fast. So, please leave comments. To witness your reactions as you read the story serves as a great feedback loop to recharge my batteries and directly impacts my speed and quality of writing. So please help me out here :)
> 
> Thank you Dodo, Cybis, Anthony, Crimsonash330, JF44, and Monst3ra1 for leaving comments.
> 
> I'm [winelover1989](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/636428779278024704/winelover1989-winelover1989-winelover1989) if you wish to share it with your followers.


	39. Saving Captain Rogers

When the shock and awe of his worst nightmare coming to life had passed, Tony reached for his gun. He might have been powerless when the fear of Steve hanging haunted him day and night. He might have found himself paralyzed by his fear of drowning when Hammer’s henchmen stole away with his lover. He also failed to get here in time to stop the hanging. But he refused to remain paralyzed by fear when he had one last shot still left in him. Quite literally. His cruel lover has once mocked his excellent marksmanship. Steve had insisted that unlike sport, in real life, targets are rarely stationary, which granted, was god’s honest truth, but a tranquilized man hanging by a rope wasn’t all that different from target practice. Tony took a deep breath, raised his gun, and fired the bullet. Yes. _Yes_. Bull’s eye. He raised his fist in triumph as the rope snapped and the pirate dropped onto the ground.

Tony put on his armor’s helmet lest someone in the crowd recognized him. “Let’s do this, boy,” he said to Mark the second before the horse broke into a gallop.

Steve, on the other hand, had gone absolutely feral and was now choking Hammer with the broken noose he had removed from his neck. Chaos erupted in the park as all civilians ran for their lives, the mercenaries rushed to save Hammer, and Hammer’s wife grabbed hold of her plump pregnant belly and screamed in agony to call attention to the fact that her water just broke. He couldn’t have asked for a better window of opportunity. Tony spurred his horse on to jump over the bushes, the garden fences, and all the other hurdles in their path to get to the gallows before the mercenaries.

“Leave him. We’ve got to get out of here,” Tony screamed, offering his outstretched hand.

Steve had the audacity to growl before he looked up at the Ironman helmet, and instantly let go of Hammer, to come running his way with a big dopey smile on his face like some kind of damsel in distress running to her knight in shining armor. It was a sight to behold. God, he missed this idiot more than life itself. Only when their hands touched, did his heart finally know peace. Steve was saved at last. He had no idea how he mustered the strength, but in his excitement of the chaos, the danger, and his heart bursting with relief, he somehow pulled up that entire massive muscular hunk onto his horse.

“My hero,” Steve teased as he hugged Tony from behind and landed a kiss upon his cheek. “But first, something to remember my executioner by,” he said, dipping low to snatch Hammer’s pompous over-curled wig and waving it triumphantly in the air.

Hammer stared at them with his bulbous eyes, red from the choking and the humiliation, as he stood there bald as a baby. It didn’t last very long. He too fainted and fell just like his pregnant wife in labor.

“Hold on tight,” Tony said, desperately grasping the hand resting upon his chest. He was never going to let go of this suicidal bastard now.

Mercenaries came charging from every direction.

Thankfully, a shot was fired to ward off the ones getting too close. Great. Rhodey must have taken his post somewhere behind the shrubbery to have his back. There was only one way for them to go now. Out the main gate.

His own gate—the cast iron one, he had built with his lover’s help, imbued with the magic of the late Mrs. Rogers’s lullaby to ward off evil fairies—was found torn from its hinges and cast aside after these mercenaries came marching into his home to capture his beloved. He didn’t quite realize Steve was taken as he did upon witnessing the destruction they left in their wake. The sight of the wrecked gate he built to ward off his nosy neighbors and keep them safe is what made him go berserk. Now that he had got his lover back, and was leaving this cursed place for good… to hell with them all.

“Open the gates,” Tony ordered the watchmen standing guard by Hammer’s gate.

The watchmen drew their swords.

“Well, don’t say I didn’t ask nicely first,” Tony said, raising a hand and summoning his newfound firepower to blast the bloody gate off its hinges and send it flying out of the way.

Well, that felt good.

They didn’t get far before coming face to face with Killian.

“What the fuck. No,” Tony yelled when Steve grabbed his sword and jumped off the horse to go fight them. “I just got you back. Damn it, Rogers. Get back up here.”

Steve didn’t listen though. He just went toe to toe with Killian with nothing but his sword and raw unadulterated rage. Tony did what little he could do in his current state of sleep deprivation and exhaustion to scrape up sad bits of his newfound powers to keep get the henchmen to back off. It was his only option now that he was unarmed, they were surrounded, and Killian was attempting to divide and conquer by drawing Steve away from the fray.

“Don’t leave me alone and unarmed here,” Tony called out. That’s what finally did it. Steve might not have an ounce of self-preservation in him, but at the very least, he cared enough for Tony to snap out of it long enough to retreat. It did nothing to quench either of their bloodthirst though. And my god was it violent. Tony had seen enough violence in his brief time as a pirate, but nothing could have prepared him for this mortal combat, for his lover, who was always so tender and caring with him, unleashed unimaginable wrath upon Killian. It was a sight to behold and dread in equal measure for he would not wish such a fate upon his worst enemy. It ended with Killian unarmed, and his own sword—still smeared with his wife’s blood—plunged into his heart.

Covered in blood and grime, Steve wordlessly got back on the horse, and Tony didn’t waste a breath before taking off with the dust shrouding the carnage they left behind. Neither of them broke the anxious silence the entire way. With bated breath, Tony took a sharp turn into the dirt road leading to the clearing they decided to rendezvous with Jarvis and Rhodey.

The instant their feet touched the ground, Steve grabbed hold onto him like a ship dropping anchor at a port, and kissed him as if he desperately needed the affirmation that he is still alive. Tony wrapped his arms around him and returned the kiss in earnest. Nothing had ever felt as divine as having his lover back in his arms after being torn apart by their brushes with death and all the horrors they had courted along the way.

They were both so filthy and weary. Tony still couldn’t keep his hands off Steve, and unbeknownst to him, found himself rutting and grinding up against the pirate with embarrassingly needy whines and moans. Honestly, Tony wished for nothing more than to climb Steve like a tree. But enough with the passionate reunion, he had things that needed to be said.

“Honey,” Tony began, reluctant and breathless as he practically peeled his needy and lustful form out of his lover’s embrace. “In the future, when I come to you with information of a plot hatching against you or warn you of imminent danger… don’t you dare tell me I’m paranoid and dramatic,” he said, slapping his cruel lover’s chest. “Listen to me. Heed my warning. If you’re ever again dismissive of my fears, I swear to god—”

“Never again,” Steve promised, cradling his face both hands to ground him to those big earnest eyes. “You say run, we run, baby.”

“And if _we_ can’t, promise me _you_ will,” Tony stressed. “Never make me beg and second guess my instincts and live in this god awful state of constant anxiety.”

Steve looked away, indecisive. “Was it you who Obi?” he asked, dazed, unfocussed, something between a mystery and disbelief.

“How did you find out?”

“Because I was accused of his murder,” Steve replied, turning to him with scrutiny as if to guess the answer before one was given to him. “And when they explained the details of _my crime_ to get a confession out of me, I knew what had happened when I left you last night, and why the mercenaries got to the beach before you did.”

Tony couldn’t meet those pained and conflicted eyes, and looked away to the lake in the distance. “Remember when we went fishing? I couldn’t even take the hook out of the dying fish. Last night, I didn’t even hesitate, and when Happy was mourning Obi’s death this morning, the only thing I felt was irritation and impatience for him to get over it so I could proceed with planning your escape. I’ve become a different man. I’ve got blood on my hands.”

“As do I, my love,” Steve assured him, lacing the fingers of his bloody hand upon which he still wore the ruby ring with which they sealed their engagement, and caressing the band of the royal navy ring he gave to Tony. “And I’m glad you finally dealt with that bastard. Hope it gave you some closure.”

“It did.” Tony nodded. “But enough about Obi. I need you to promise me this will never happen again,” he demanded, despite his voice betraying him by cracking, “Because I refuse to live the rest of my life beseeching and chasing after your reckless ass.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Steve cooed, gathering him into a hug. “I will listen. I swear. I will always listen and heed your warnings and take your advice instead of just keeping my own counsel from here on now.” They stood there like that for what felt like ages. Wrapped in each other’s arms. Tony felt safe. He couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t just getting from one moment to the next, simply surviving, fighting, running, and forcing himself to keep moving forward despite all the madness unfolding around him. This felt good. This little cocoon of intimacy. He finally felt at home and at ease in the arms of this dirty filthy pirate in a way he had never felt even in the lap of luxury. Steve was here. With him. They were safe. And if everything went according to plan, they would be together till their dying breath. Tony inhaled a deep breath, and couldn’t help but cringe, because even love couldn’t sugarcoat that smell.

Steve chuckled before pulling away from him. He rubbed the back of his neck as his gaze fell to his feet with a deep flush and a boyish smile. “I need to get cleaned up,” he said, leaving him with a chaste little kiss, before peeling away all his clothes, making a run for the lake, jumping in to wash away all the blood and the dirt of captivity, battle, and escape off him.

Mourning the loss of his lover’s safe embrace and loving kisses, Tony stood beside his horse, peering at the still blue lake, clear as glass, rippling and disturbed only where Steve swam. There was no wind in the air but the chirping of birds kept it alive. High in the heavens, the midsummer sun shone upon him warm and radiant. Oh, to be alive, breathe, and have a moment. It felt odd after the cursed long night with which he welcomed a new year, a new decade, and a new phase of his life as a committed family man. All night he had been so caught up in fighting and surviving that he seized to be a man, and had transformed completely into a killing machine that cares none for its surrounding and those in it but only cares for what’s necessary to keep moving forward. He had his moments during the madness of it all when he thought his newfound powers had robbed him of his humanity. Not anymore. He felt alive once again.

“What are you waiting for?” Steve called out, waving to catch his attention. “Aren’t you going to join me?”

“It would be my honor,” Tony replied with a sly smile as he clumsily discarded his plain pirates’ clothes. Drawing a deep breath, he braced himself to face his fear of drowning by focusing only on his beloved as he walked into the lake at his feet. Tony shivered. The water was too cold. He dived in and swam straight to Steve. In his lover’s arms, he once again found warmth and safety. Wearing nothing but the rings they had exchanged, the two of them played, embraced, and got way too intimate to the great annoyance of their companions when they too arrived at the rendezvous point to burst their little bubble of intimacy.

“Like two seals fighting over a grape,” Rhodey muttered as he rode past the lake with a lingering, “Get a room.” He went as far as to consider returning to the dungeon if this is what he had to look forward to during their journey.

With a shake of his head, Tony left Steve to go get dressed, and once again resume the role of Tony Stark, the finely dressed rich Baron always flaunting the most flamboyant and latest fashion trends. Jarvis helped him dress. He was no longer a butler. Yet, he felt compelled and duty-bound to put out all the clean clothes he had brought for them to make their escape in style. 

“Please change into these, Captain Rogers,” Jarvis said, laying out a set of the most ostentatious and most proper clothes fit for a gentleman of rank and fortune, and picked up the carelessly discarded filthy clothes to bury in a hole somewhere. “Shave your beard as well,” he added, laying a blade on top of the neat pile.

“Why?” Steve asked, sticking his head out of the water.

“You’re a wanted criminal on the run, my love,” Tony pointed out. “We plan on hiding you in plain sight as we travel to London as a party of respectable gentlemen.”

Steve swam up to them to get on with his shaving and dressing, and just when Tony thought his birthday could no longer surprise him for he had seen far too much, Steve’s transformation from pirate to gentleman shook him to his very core. It was most irregular. Tony had been with many women in his life, and thus, was more than used to smooth delicate faces, but Steve, without a beard, almost extinguished all of his desire for the man. Not to mention the silk and lace. He was simply too…pretty? As innocent and harmless as a lamb. Tony didn’t know what it said about him that not long ago he wanted nothing more than to be mercilessly pinned by the grizzly pirate covered in blood and grime after escaping the clutches of death, and now he felt… nothing.

Steve walked up to him unsteadily due to his ill-fitted finery he wasn’t accustomed to wearing, and to make matters worse, he plucked Hammer’s wig from the saddlebag with a teasing smile. “If I must endure this for the remainder of this journey, then I plan on being the most pompous gentleman in existence.” And with that declaration, he donned the over-curled monstrosity and began to pose for them like an absolute diva. “Well, now I kind of want to wear one of those wanton heels you love so much as well,” he said, adding insult to injury.

Tony slapped his cruel lover’s chest and said, “They aren’t wanton. They are tasteful, regal, and dignified. And you don’t need them, since you’re already too damn tall. Not to mention, riding boots are the appropriate footwear for riding and—”

“And we mustn’t do anything inappropriate during our travels,” Steve said, suggestively wiggling his brows. He dropped his voice to a conspiratorial stage whisper, “Or Rhodes here might throw himself in a dungeon out of sheer agony of it all.”

“As I was saying,” Tony sighed, ignoring the interruption, “If you go too far with this shtick, you will stick out like a sore thumb, which is precisely what we’re trying to avoid with all of this.” He waved at his lover’s new insufferable form.

“You don’t like me very much like this, do you?” Steve teased, haughtily twirling the curls of the wig he had snatched from Hammer of all people.

“I find you beautiful irrespective of your attire or a lack thereof,” Tony said with a flirtatious little wink to cover up his absolute absence of desire.

“Why don’t you kiss me then?” Steve teased, leaning in to claim his kiss.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut and pictured Steve with an unkempt beard and a loose shirt before dropping a reluctant peck upon his lips. “All right, gents. We can’t afford to waste any more time here.” He practically made a run for the horses grazing upon the grass by the lake and mounted his. “We must leave at once.”

“That bad, huh,” Steve drawled before getting on his horse with a mischievous little smile. “Oh, I’m going to have so much fun with this. And as my betrothed, I expect you to love me beard or no beard.”

Tony sighed. “Hammer’s wig doesn’t help your case though.”

Steve clutched his chest with a rather dramatic gasp before riding off in a fit of fake fury. Did that bastard just do an impression of him? That is not…. 

“I don’t sound like that, right?” Tony asked the others.

“Sir, do you want an honest answer or a reassurance?” Jarvis sassed.

“Never mind,” Tony waved it off.

“You do,” Rhodey replied, “You totally do.”

“Et tu, Platypus?” Tony asked, feigning hurt.

“See, there it is,” Rhodey declared before taking off as well.

Tony joined the party, and together, they made their way out of Cornwall, a truly magnificent and beautiful place, where he met the love of his life and had his greatest adventure yet. He truly wished to retire here and live the rest of his days in the Cornish countryside. He would have too if it wasn’t for circumstances, his nosy neighbors, and new beginnings ahead of him. The road to London was way better than he remembered from the last time he traveled this road to move out here. The troops patrolling the highway stopping them a couple of times, but as soon as he introduced himself, they were sent off with a respectful bow.

He felt like the prodigal son returning home when they finally made it to London. Soon, he would have to bid goodbye to this life as well. Not today though. In the short window he had between their arrival in town and his estate managers tying up all loose ends and joining them, he had such fun parading the notorious pirate all over the town as a gentleman.

Tony took Steve to all his favorite taverns, and faced only a little embarrassment when his friends were far too forthcoming with tales of his exploits as a bachelor. Of course, none of them knew they were speaking to his future husband. And he couldn’t save face by correcting them either. So, he endured it with bravery and his cruel lover had way too much fun at his expense. The bastard was all curiosity and cockiness and far too pleased with himself for hiding in plain sight and provoking everyone they met to discuss the pirate who robbed Tony’s birthday ball. God, the recklessness of his man would be the death of him. But because he loved the idiot, he herded him out of these conversations and pointed him in the direction of something more interesting. He took Steve to watch a couple of Shakespeare’s plays, knowing how much he loved them, and even introduced him to the bard. They went so far as to introduce attend a royal ball and meet the entire court, and boy, did Steve have a great time with that.

Only when Happy wrote with information of their return and an invitation to trade the inn they were currently residing in for moving into the estate managers’ home for the remainder of their stay in England, did Steve know fear. That was the first thing that filled him with dread. Unbelievable. The wanted pirate met his majesty with a cocky smirk and discussed his transgressions at great length with the concerned king, and even offered some _great_ advice—as most of the advisors put it—to sabotage their efforts to catch him but the thought of facing Pepper is what finally set him off and threw him into a fit of panic. His hands were practically shaking when as stood at the doorstep of the townhouse.

“It’s going be all right,” Tony said, holding his lover’s trembling hand to steady him. “Where is that confidence with which you made quite the entrance at my birthday party?”

“That is precisely what I’m regretting right now,” Steve sighed. “She’s going to kill me.”

“I won’t lie to you by saying that the thought has never crossed her mind,” Tony teased, “because I’m certain it has and she probably wants to—”

“You’re not helping,” Steve whined.

“But she wouldn’t, for my sake,” Tony finished with a wicked smile. “You’re the love of my life, and my future husband, and she would never do that to me.”

“Let’s hope so,” Steve said, resigned to his fate before gathering all his courage and knocking upon the door. “Here goes nothing.”

_[**(Hazel** ](https://hazel-shithappens.tumblr.com/)blessed this fic another beautiful [artwork)](https://hazel-shithappens.tumblr.com/post/636610522175930368/tony-happy-stop-crying-for-obadiah-we-dont-do)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Dodo, Crimsonash330, Daughter_of_a_fangirl, and Anthony for leaving your lovely comments and a special thanks to Hazel who has once against graced this fic with such beautiful and witty art. Please send compliments to the artist here [(X)](https://hazel-shithappens.tumblr.com/)
> 
> This is the [Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://hazel-shithappens.tumblr.com/post/631943025418960896/the-pirate-and-the-not-so-gentleman-rating) for you to share it with your followers. Go ahead. Sharing is caring.


	40. Home Sweet Home

Tony would be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified of how his friends would receive Steve, since it was one thing to help him rescue someone he loved, it was entirely another to accept him, better yet, approve of him. Pepper threw herself into Tony’s arms the instant the door flung open. As she held him in a crushing embrace, a tear or two dropped upon his shoulder. It was a far more welcoming reunion than he had expected, and it was truly beautiful while it lasted, for it didn’t last long. Scolding soon rained down upon him. Pepper was quite cross with him over the mess they had left for her to clean up and she did not hold back at all. Thankfully, she did invite them in for tea. 

Christine had left to start her new life, which was great for her, but his friends were suddenly responsible for taking care of a baby on top of everything else. He suspected this was the real reason they invited a pirate into their home. Desperate times call for desperate measures. And Pepper’s desperation was evident by her eagerness to shove the baby into his arms the instant they put their coats and hats away. Steve didn’t get a pass either. Harley and the dogs were assigned as his responsibility in the household before he even crossed the threshold. 

It was only then that Pepper dropped onto the nearest couch like a machine with its power suddenly cut off. Poor thing. She was worked to the bone and it was all his doing. He left her with way too much—tying up all the loose ends in the wake of his disastrous birthday, packing up his things, procuring a boat for them to leave the country, and the herculean task of getting back in business for his farming machines. It was the talk of the town.

He was perceived as a man reformed now, instead of the eccentric brat from when he skipped town. Everyone was disappointed and shocked when he shut down his weapons business, gave away his money, and retired to the countryside. Now, people could not stop romanticizing his stroke of genius of drawing inspiration from the plight of the farmers—most of them never notice—and build machinery to ease some of the burden of their labor. Little did they know his true motive of ending slavery. He liked the narrative though. He was grateful to them for coming up with a marketing campaign for him and save him the time and money to come up with something of this caliber.

In a weird way, he was also grateful for the whirlwind of constant workload his new business venture stirred up for it brought his family together. Despite their busy schedules—Pepper taking care of business and Steve looking after the kids—she still took out the time to interrogate and securitize him and his intentions for Tony at great length. She was never quite satisfied though. Steve always walked away from those conversations looking less like a notorious pirate feared by the entire nation and more like a new bride failing to live up to her ironfisted mother-in-law’s impossible expectations. Happy did a far better job of smoothing out these talks than Tony. And Tony was immensely grateful for it.

What finally did the trick in getting Pepper to approve of Steve was Happy’s spur of the moment idea for the estate managers to tie the knot with a small church ceremony amidst all this madness instead of continuing to live in sin and waiting around for the distant fantasy of a time when all their troubles would be over and they could plan a perfect wedding. In fact, Pepper completely gave up on planning even this small ceremony. It was Steve who rose to the occasion and planned it for her. Suddenly, they were thick as thieves. No one could even guess there was a time they didn’t get along.

Once the factories were up and running, his two best friends tied in holy matrimony, and Jarvis released from the infirmary where he had been nursing his stab wound, it was time to bid farewell to England.

They all gathered at the docks before sunrise on the day of departure. Jarvis was last to come staggering in and first to board the boat to survey its interiors. It was a thing of beauty. He had something more bare bones in mind when he made the request. But as usual, Happy and Pepper surpassed his expectations with such a glorious and well furnished sailboat, which was big enough for comfort, but small enough to travel discreetly. A quick tour of the boat revealed how brilliantly Pepper managed to get rid of all the furniture and belongings from his old London flat, which was crowding her basement, and got only the bare essentials from Cornwall to put together his new floating home. Marvelous!

Rhodey was far too preoccupied with bidding goodbye to the kids and the dogs to pay any heed to them. Harley was absolutely adorable in his spirit of adventure. Tony was worried about the boy after so much upheaval and instability. Yet, here he stood, most excited to embark upon this journey than anyone else. Happy, on the other hand, took Steve aside for some sort of a man to man talk by the looks of it. And Steve, damn, he was back to dressing as a pirate and his glorious beard had finally started growing out. God had finally heard Tony’s prayers. As for Pepper, she had once again resumed her role as Tony’s concerned mother, even though, as he kept reminding her, he was the older one of the two.

“Where are you planning on going?” Pepper asked in a conspiratorial whisper as she pulled him aside from the rest of the party.

“Ireland,” Tony replied, still admiring the sailboat. 

“What on earth will you do in Ireland as a pirate’s husband?” Pepper asked, deeply exasperated and once again on the verge of tears like a suffering mother whose daughter got knocked up by some filthy ruffian. He was under the impression that Pepper and Steve had buried the hatched. Alas, their friendship wasn’t as unconditional as he wished. There were still a lot of lingering conditions hanging over them like a dark cloud.

“I don’t know,” Tony shrugged. “Try to discover a light source which isn’t as much of a fire hazard as the candies that set your drapes ablaze and could have burned down the church during your wedding.”

“Light without fire?” Pepper scoffed, giving him a playful shove. “Come on, Tony. I’m serious. I’m not in a jesting mood.”

“But I am serious,” Tony shot back. “I’ve been thinking a lot about lightning ever since Steve was struck by it for the spell.”

“The spell that turned him into a merman,” Pepper asked, rolling her eyes skyward. “You can’t honestly expect me to believe all this inconceivable nonsense.”

“Fine, don’t believe me,” Tony said haughtily, “But surely, you too much have observed how lightning brightens the night sky like the day.”

“You plan on bottling up lightning?” Pepper sighed.

“Bottle up…huh…that’s an interesting idea,” Tony mumbled before clearing his throat to put her mind at ease, using the pragmatic language she spoke and understood. “What I’m trying to say is…I’ll spend my days tinkering in a workshop like I always do, and my nights, in the loving embrace of the love of my life.”

“Take care of him,” Pepper said, not to him, but over his shoulder to Steve, who just joined them. “He’s your problem now. Still, Ireland is well within my reach if I so much as get a word of—”

“Your husband already covered of all that,” Steve chuckled, wrapping his arms around Tony, and jerking his head at the rising sun. “We better set sail now.”

It took a lot of hugs and tears but he finally managed to bid goodbye to his friends and country. Harley was the only one looking to the open sea, brandishing a toy sword, and pretending to be a pirate attacking Jarvis’s ship. Tony held onto the bawling baby Morgan to soothe himself as much as to soothe her. And Steve held onto Tony’s weeping and trembling form as they bid farewell to Happy, Pepper, and Rhodey. What a sweet sorrow of parting with an old home to build a new one.

As soon as he put the children down for a nap in the afternoon, he made a run for his cabin, giddy as a teenage boy driven purely by desire. He stood there outside the door, shifting from one leg to another, and his fist hung in the air contemplating whether or not he should knock on _his own cabin door_. What was he doing?

Between the workload of starting such a new, eccentric, and experimental business venture, the unaddressed trauma of Steve’s capture, taking care of two children, the stress of tempting fate by parading a wanted criminal all over town, and most importantly, Steve’s lack of a beard and rogue seaman swagger, intimacy had evaded them. It was most bizarre. During the first month of their courtship, they were fucking like rabbits in heat. But in the last couple of weeks, things cooled down to the point of giving a begrudging arranged married man and wife of fifty years a run for their money. He almost considered his dick had stopped working. But the instant they set sail, the crushing weight of most of his troubles blew away with the sea breeze. Not to mention, his lover’s beautiful beard had also reemerged. 

Tony looked down. And there it was. As if on cue, his cock rose to the occasion. They were safe, out on the open sea, and beholden to no law but their own, once again free to have their time in the sun and live and love as their hearts desired. So why the hell not? Fuck it. Tony threw the door open.

“Did something happen?” Steve asked, abandoning making the bed in favor of battling whatever crisis had him storming into the room like this.

“Depends on who you’re asking,” Tony replied, suggestively dropping his gaze to his crotch and kicking the door shut behind him.

Steve relaxed and broke into an adorable laugh. With a little shake of his head, he rummaged through the bedside drawer and brandished a bottle of olive oil. “I have just the thing for you.”

“Extra virgin, huh,” Tony teased.

“Couldn’t find extra slutty to fit your image,” Steve declared, pretending to be genuinely bereaved. “Trust me, I tried.”

“My image,” Tony gasped. “You know what? Just for that, it’s your ass on the line this time,” he said, manhandling the booty practically put on display for him when the pirate sprawled across the bed and bent over to grab the bottle. He was going to make the bastard pay. For a lot more than that joke. For all the stress and heartache and drama that stubborn ass had unleashed upon his sanity. And God, he just needed this. The intimacy. The closeness. To feel alive. To know his lover was alive and well and they were sailing off into the sunset at last. Tony yanked Steve’s pants down with a desperate tug and slapped that perky ass for good measure. Oh, he was going to have so much fun.

“Hey,” Steve protested. “That’s not fair.”

“All is fair in love and war, darling, and I have already gone to war for you,” Tony teased before burying an oiled-up finger into his lover’s tight hole which was putting up way too much resistance for him to satiate his newly resurrected desire. “God, you’re so tight, and I don’t mean that in a good way. Will you relax?”

“Make me,” Steve challenged, slightly shuffling underneath him in an uncomfortable attempt to turn and face him. Tony didn’t miss the opportunity to capture those beautiful lips in a hungry kiss. And damn it. He relaxed.

“Ah, look at you opening up so well for me now,” Tony whispered between kisses as he began to finger him much more ease this time.

“You asked nicely this time,” Steve moaned.

Tony pouted. “But I don’t want to be nice.”

“What do you want?” Steve teased, voice dripping with desire and seduction and dirty little deep bedroom voice he knew only too well to be Tony’s greatest weakness. Well, if he could play unfair, then so could Tony.

Tony withdrew his finger from the booty he planned on plundering with playful little squeeze upon the cheeks, and ignoring his lover’s adorable little whine of protest, he ordered, “Take off your shirt.”

Steve complied with such eagerness and gusto that the shirt practically vanished before Tony could even take it all in, yet, take in he did, for he could never grow tired of bearing witness to his lover’s glorious body. He would have to be dead to not swoon at the sight of it. And he wasn’t dead. Neither was Steve. They were alive and safe and free at last. Tony fell into Steve’s strong embrace with a desperate need to validate that. He ran his nervous trembling hands all over his lover’s warm skin that buzzed with life and vitality before burying his head between those plump hard pecs and reveling in the sound of his beloved’s racing heartbeat. 

“Oh, God, I need you. I need to be inside you. Now,” Tony repeated like a prayer as he dropped feverish kisses upon every inch of his lover’s skin laid bare to him and thrust his fingers into the lubricated hole with an urgent desire to take him and celebrate the fact that against all odds they had survived.

“Are you going to keep talking or are you going to fuck me already?” Steve demanded, ranking his fingers through Tony’s hair and yanking at it almost as rough as Tony liked it.

“Let me think,” Tony sassed, raising a brow as he oiled up his cock and lined it just in place but going no further to tease his lover.

“I beg your pardon,” Steve gasped.

“Go ahead, beg,” Tony teasing, brushing his cock around the rim of the readied hole clenching in invitation for him. “You would look so pretty begging me to fuck you.”

“Not very gentlemanly of you, my love,” Steve grumbled, practically rutting underneath him.

“I’ve never been much of a gentleman, beloved,” Tony said with a shallow thrust.

“Please,” Steve whined.

“Please, what?” Tony demanded, slamming in his cock all the way in but summoning every bit of restraint he had in him to remain there and not move.

“Please fuck me, my lord,” Steve begged with quite the show of oppression.

Tony was a goner. He was right. Steve was absolutely beautiful begging for it, so much so that all his restraint and his good sense abandoned him in an instant. He was planning on savoring their first time together since his disastrous birthday. Screw that. Tony fucked Steve with everything he had in him. His entire world was suddenly reduced to his lover’s lips for him to kiss, his lover’s body for him to fondle, and the slick tight hole he now rammed his cock with no plans or consideration beyond chasing his pleasure and filling it up. Though, even in his horny haze, he didn’t wish to be selfish and leave Steve needing. Tony grabbed Steve’s cock and began milking it for all its worth. He was close. He wasn’t going to last very long. He might cum embarrassingly fast, and if he did, he didn’t wish to leave his lover wanting.

“Harder,” Steve cried. “I’m about to…I’m…I’m about….”

“Yeah, baby, go ahead, cum for me,” Tony purred into his ears before his lover came with a loud grunt, bowing his back, spraying it all over their torsos. Watching him come apart was definitely a sight to behold. Transfixed by his lover’s pleasure, knowing that it was he, who did this, Tony too came undone, spilling his seed deep within him, and yet, refusing to slip out and risk losing the intimacy of their connection.

They remained like that for God only knows how long. It could have been minutes. It could be lifetimes. Tony lost track of time kissing, holding, and worshipping his lover as they basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking to such a degree that he was positively surprised by his cock hardening once again where it was safely tucked away inside his lover.

“Ah,” Steve exclaimed, sounding quite pleased with himself and even cockier than usual. “Did you take some magical potion before descending upon me like a thirsty little thot or is this all me?” he asked with an exaggerated hand gesture to call attention to his beautiful body.

“Hey,” Tony protested, “Who’re you calling little? And don’t flatter yourself. I’m only half hard.”

“Oh, don’t you worry,” Steve said with a mischievous smirk and a hard slap upon Tony’s buttcheeks before going for the bottle of extra virgin olive oil which they had enlisted for the least virgin of causes. Steve slicked his fingers before burying them into Tony’s arse without a trace of his usual care as he aimed straight for the prostrate. Tony yelped. “I’m going to get you off for a second time, old man.”

“That was uncalled for,” Tony chastised his cruel lover for that remark along with the manhandling of his ass.

“Yeah,” Steve teased. “I thought you liked it when I’m mean in bed.” With that, the pirate flipped them over, separating them where they were literally joined at the hip, and began thrusting and scissoring his long fingers inside of him, getting both their cocks to once again rise to the occasion. Tony gave in to the wonderful sensation of not being able to move underneath his lover’s weight and being claimed like he always wanted to be. Damn. This was going to be a very fun journey.

The morning they arrived in Ireland, they were welcomed by tides crashing high upon the cliffs in the distance and lapping up a ridge of seafoam against the rocks. Home sweet home. Tony snuggled up against Steve for warmth and intimacy before they both set out to work—navigating the boat to land, and slithering their way through several channels and streams—to find their way to a large lake in the middle of nowhere.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Steve asked.

“Indeed it is,” Tony said, admiring the mountains and the breathtakingly fresh greenery that breathed new life into his soul. “Your country is beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like your new home, my love,” Steve said, jerking his head in the direction of a lakehouse in the distance.

“I’ll be damned,” Tony gasped as he rushed to the bow of the sailboat to get a better look at the most charming house he had ever seen. He had imagined it much smaller when Steve mentioned his _cottage,_ and was a bit concerned for his children, but this lakehouse would do splendidly to accommodate them all. And God was it beautiful.

“What do you think?” Steve asked, holding Tony from behind and nestling his chin into the crook of Tony’s neck.

“It’s beautiful, and might I add, you did gross injustice to it in all your descriptions of this little piece of heaven.”

“Heaven huh?” Steve asked, planting a little kiss upon his cheek. “I think I might have done better job had I painted it instead. How are you feeling about meeting my family?”

“Nervous would be an understatement,” Tony sighed.

“Why?” Steve asked, running a soothing hand over his chest.

“Frankly, I feel like the other woman you’ve invited to live here with your daughter and the mother of your child, without even consulting with her, and there’s a decent chance that this beautiful fantasy could go horribly wrong the instant we set foot on solid ground.”

“You make it sound like she’s my wife,” Steve scoffed.

“I mean…” Tony mused, unsure and a little insecure.

Despite his lover’s assurances, the anxiety and apprehension of finding his place in his new country and family still clung to him as they docked the boat. Still, he walked up to the house with his head held high, clinging to baby Morgan in his arms, who was in as jolly a mood as she always was, Harley holding his hand and skipping beside him without a care in the world, and the dogs and Jarvis following closely behind. 

“Daddy,” screamed a little blonde girl of six or seven as she came bursting out of the house like a missile, launching herself at Steve, who caught her with the dexterity of someone who had grown far too accustomed to such welcomes, and threw her high in the air before catching her with a big dopey smile on his face. He didn’t get a chance to get a word out. The little ball of energy that was his daughter went off on an elaborate account of all the things she did and learned during his absence at an incomprehensible speed, fast approaching the speed of light. Steve, on the other hand, somehow managed to grasp the meaning of the entire monologue when it was over. He wasn’t faking it considering his follow up questions. Impressive. Tony should have known it, but he was still surprised to discover how much of a good father Steve was… just when he thought he couldn’t love the man any more than he already did.

“Tony, this is my daughter, Mary,” Steve introduced her, “And Mary, this is Tony, and he and his family will be moving in with us.”

“A baby,” Mary screamed with raw unbridled joy to match Morgan’s babbling. “Can I play with your baby, Mister Tony?”

Tony looked to Steve in question.

Steve nodded.

“Here, be careful with her,” Tony said, parting with his daughter with enormous anxiety that was wholly unwarranted given how careful and tender the girl turned out to be in handling a baby.

“She’s so cute,” Mary whispered. “What’s her name?”

“Morgan,” Steve supplied, kneeling next to her. “How do you feel about her being your new sister?”

“I think I would like that very much,” Mary replied. “I always wanted a sister and I’m kind of sick and tired of having only Peter to play with.”

“Peter?” Tony asked. Did Steve have another child he forgot to mention? God. There were only so many surprise children he could handle at such short notice. Most people get at least nine months to prepare for parental responsibilities of a single child. Tony already got three in the last month, and turns out, there was a fourth about to join their ranks.

“That would be me,” said a little boy, who had materialized out of nowhere like a little spider, and had been petting and playing with the dogs all the while they made their acquaintance with the girl.

“Peter is May’s nephew. He has been in his care ever since his parents died,” Steve explained, and before Tony could make any further inquiries about the mysterious May, Steve made a grand gesture to point him in the direction of the two women waiting for them on the porch, “And May is Peggy’s wife.”

“Well, you certainly have a type,” Tony whispered to Steve as he caught sight of the brunette curls by which he recognized Peggy. 

“As do you, my love, as do you,” Steve teased before taking his hand to lead the way. While the children made honest and excited introductions like only children are capable of making, Tony gingerly followed Steve for the adults to make their formal introductions. Jarvis seemed to know Peggy quite well, for they embraced like the best of friends reuniting after a lifetime. Both the ladies put all his anxieties at ease with their warm welcome of him. They ushered him to their kitchen table in a flurry of questions about how he met Steve and all their adventures together, and to his great pleasure, neither of them were pleased with Steve’s stubbornness and unnecessarily risk taking behavior.

“Et tu, Peggy,” Steve asked, pretending to be wounded as he whipped up some lunch for them while they talked.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Peggy scolded, “You have a daughter to think of, and now you plan on getting married, and adopting more children.” She gestured at the large group of kids and dogs playing outside. “When will you grow up?”

Steve laughed. “Oh, you just wait till you get to know Tony better; I’ll seem like a wise old sage in comparison.”

It was all so wonderfully domestic. Back home, he had friends, who were like family to him, but there was something so cozy and fun about being a part of this mixed family with Steve, Peggy, May, Jarvis, all their children, and of course the dogs, that for the first time in his life he truly felt at home. It was the perfect life he didn’t even know he always wanted. But here he sat. Steve serving lunch, exasperated with the three of them, as they plotted to spend all his newfound loot from the last mission to expand the house into two more wings to build enough rooms to properly accommodate everyone, maybe a couple of guest rooms for the crew, and a workshop for Tony at a distance from the main house so as to not disturb the rest of their peace with his metalwork and hammering. It wasn’t hard to convince Steve. He was sold the instant Peggy lured him in with the prospect of an art studio he always wanted.

“And once the new rooms are done, we can knock down some of these walls of the old rooms to expand the living room and kitchen,” Tony suggested. “Maybe even add a dining room.”

Peggy and May nodded in agreement.

Steve stood over them, exasperated, with a hand upon his hip. “What have I done by introducing the three of you and getting engaged to someone who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth?”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Tony said, playfully swatting at him.

“He said as he plotted to blow his future husband’s entire life savings,” Steve quipped in the singsong tone of a tired old storyteller.

“I helped you make that money and I’ll help you make more,” Tony shot back, “And here I thought you had a sugar daddy kink.”

May choked on her tea.

“In my defense, it was far more fun playing make-believe in bed than it is in practice,” Steve said with a playful wink and a wicked smile. That cocky bastard!

“Steve,” Peggy scolded. “The children might hear you! What has gotten into you all of a sudden?”

“It’s all him,” Steve chuckled, pointing an accusatory finger at Tony.

“Hey,” Tony gasped, scandalized by his lover’s sudden shameless candor. He turned to the ladies to defend himself so as to not tarnish his reputation right at the start of his new life as a family man. “I would never be so improper in the children’s company.”

“Ugh,” Steve grumbled, walking away in disgust and vexation. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant you’re rubbing off on me.” He laughed at the sudden realization of the innuendo once again evident in his words. “No pun intended.” He threw his hands up in surrender. “I swear! And fine, you can have all the money you need to expand upon the house to best accommodate everyone, but don’t turn this into something like that mansion of yours, which needed an army of servants for maintenance alone. Let’s keep it simple. Big enough for everyone to have adequate personal space but small enough for us to manage it on our own and keep our peace and privacy.”

“I second that,” May chimed in before turning to Tony. “Would you like a tour of the grounds? I recently planted a flower garden and built a treehouse for Peter. Let me show you,” she said, offering him a hand, which he gladly took to go explore his new home and clear his head by getting reacquainted with the wonders of the land after such a long voyage at sea.

Tony was so in awe of the natural beauty surrounding him that even when his companion made her way back home, he took a turn for the lake to admire the sunset, wooden boards creaking underneath his boots as he stood at the edge of the jetty. Yes. He could see himself grow old here. Inhaling a deep breath, he watched the soft orange sun paint the evening sky in beautiful hues of red and gold as it made its slow descent upon the horizon.

“There you are,” Steve said in a soft gravelly voice from behind him before draping a warm shawl over his shoulders for warmth in the cool evening breeze. With a soft hmm, Tony settled into his lover’s embrace as strong arms wrapped protectively around him like a warm loving cocoon. Steve dropped a loving kiss upon his cheek. This. This is what was missing until now. At long last, he was home, since no matter how charming their new humble abode was, it was in his lover’s arms that he felt safe, loved, and at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. Personal life drama. Let me just say that before I added a fanart chapter in between, the final and 40th chapter I planned was where the crew shows up, Steve and Tony get married by the lake as my personal screw you to Endgame's ending, and they set out to hunt Hydra for their honeymoon. I feel like this ending still gives proper closure for the story even if I never get around to writing that epilogue chapter. I might end up writing it if I manage to find some inspiration for it. Still, I felt like I owed you guys closure so here's the best I could do for their happy ending in my writer's block.
> 
> I'm so grateful to Tony, channeling whose character, got me to the realization that I need to seek help for what I now know is my own complex ptsd. Writing this fic really saved my life. Thank you all for reading it and for commenting and making art. I am especially grateful to Dodo, who was the first to comment on the first experimental chapter I posted, unsure if I should even write more, like honestly, your continued comments on every single chapter is the reason I finished this fic. A special thanks to Hazel, who is such a talented artist, and bestowed this fic with so much beautiful works of art. You added so much beauty to this fic. It is the best gift I've ever received and I will always treasure your art. And thank you Jac_k247, Monst3ra1, and Crimsonash330 for leaving comments on the fic recently.
> 
> Goodbye! I'm [winelover1989](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please feel free to come say hi and here's [The Tumblr Post For This Fic](https://winelover1989.tumblr.com/post/639388372220198912/hazel-shithappens-winelover1989-the-pirate-and) if you wish to share it with your followers. Go ahead. Sharing is caring.


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